Pride and Prejudice and Provo
by Merry Christensen
Summary: Greg Darcy and Lizzy Bennet meet and, against their wishes, fall in love (set in the 1970's).


194

_**It's not a truth universally acknowledged – but is almost a tenet of the Mormon faith – that a single man who is home from his mission must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering BYU, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding women, that he is considered the rightful property of one of them.**_

_**Pride and Prejudice and Provo**_

By Merry Christensen

Chapter One

To help her nieces who lived in Texas earn their MRS degrees, Mrs. Netherfield let them live upstairs with her while they attended Brigham Young University. Her husband – a professor at the same university – found both nieces haughty, but not without reason. Both of his nieces by marriage were smart and sophisticated like his wife and both, like his wife, were confident and carried themselves well. The noses on all three were too Roman to make their faces pretty, but because they were the noses of aristocrats the three rated themselves beauties.

Days before the Lone Star beauties were to arrive for another year, Mrs. Netherfield said to her husband, "The vacant bedroom in our basement apartment is let at last."

In years past, Dr. and Mrs. Netherfield had rented their three bedroom basement apartment to that same number of men. Most of their neighbors in what were called the tree streets did the same. And those men who lived in basement apartments on streets with names like Cherry, Peach and Old Willow Lane were paired student ward-wise – a ward is an ecclesiastic unit – with complexes that rented to women.

But with BYU's growth, the law of supply and demand had prompted landlords to increase occupancy. Campus Plaza, a fairly new, three story complex that housed women, had been designed to fit three beds in each room instead of the old-fashioned two. In one of Campus Plaza's multiple wings, sisters, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet and Charlotte Lucas, their friend, shared a bedroom. Of course, the bedrooms in Campus Plaza were long enough to line up three beds. But the bedrooms in the basement apartment of the Netherfield's were so square that after considering the size and shape, the Netherfield's decided to increase occupancy to two to a bedroom, not three.

To back up a bit, this was the first year the Netherfield's had considered increasing occupancy and had they decided sooner their tenants from the previous year could have advertised for them. But Mrs. Netherfield so delayed decisions that July of 1973 had ended before she finally decided. To now try to fill the slots she called a returning renter who secured a friend for the other bed now in his room. And the other two returning renters agreed to double up, which left the third bedroom vacant. Once it became apparent that further help would have to come from resources of her own, Mrs. Netherfield made a "room for rent" sign and taped it into the window which faced the park. But the park was – at least in summer – largely visited by small children. For this reason, Mrs. Netherfield half expected the slots would stay vacant – that is, until a last minute renter appeared. His story: a misunderstanding surrounding the fact that he was renting for himself _and_ a friend had eclipsed another apartment. But luckily, a swing by the park to play tennis with his sister Caroline, who was attending summer school, had led him to Mrs. Netherfield's door.

"A Jim Bingley," Mrs. Netherfield added, "has rented the room for himself and a Greg Darcy. Greg won't arrive till block."

Block, which began midway through each semester, accommodated students who arrived mid semester.

Mr. Netherfield, a kindly but frugal man, asked if they were to hold the space rent free. To this Mrs. Netherfield answered, "No. Greg Darcy has sent the usual first and last month's rent, a deposit, and rent for the months his space will stay vacant. I think he's well off, or rather his parents. His father is highly placed in the Foreign Service. And his friend Jim Bingley's father is a judge in Salt Lake, I believe of some note." Mrs. Netherfield, not a silly person, did not add, "What luck for my nieces," but thoughts of her nieces marrying Greg and Jim filled her head.

The week after he moved in Mrs. Netherfield took Jim Bingley aside to invite him to dinner on an upcoming Sunday. Out of politeness he kept the invitation, which he correctly believed had been issued only to him, from his roommates until one of the three, who had lived in the apartment the previous year, said, "Speak freely. We know our landlady's ways."

When Jim asked what he meant, the roommate added,

"Mrs. Netherfield gave up on us last year and is now after you." When Bingley still seemed like he didn't understand, another roommate said, "She invited us to dinner last fall until it became clear that none of us was interested in her nieces. Beware you don't fall into the mantraps. Annette and Jocelyn have sharp, steel teeth."

Jim Bingley and Mrs. Netherfield's nieces were in the same university ward so when Mrs. Netherfield had issued the invitation she suggested that on the Sunday in question Jim walk Annette and Jocelyn home after church services. Services were held on campus and once the three arrived they would eat. Jim was already a little more than interested in a girl in the ward, a Jane Bennet, who was so pretty he believed he might never win her. So this was one reason he didn't want to be linked to Mrs. Netherfield's nieces: Jane Bennet might get the wrong impression and not recognize his interest and believe it lay elsewhere. And the second reason was he had no interest in his landlady's nieces, and because he had none he had no wish to spend time with them, nor lead them on.

He now recognized he should have said no to his landlady's invitation, and also knew he would have to find a way to do so in the future. Jim Bingley was amicable, so amicable he found it hard to say no. If someone asked for his coat he would give him his cloak too. (Not that Jim owned a cloak. Cloaks were weird.)

In this respect, he was different from his friend Greg Darcy. Greg could say no – just with a stare. But alas, if Jim's past was in any way a predictor of his future he would continue to accept Mrs. Netherfield's invitations – until Greg Darcy arrived and got them out of them. Greg didn't seem to do anything unless he wanted to. His single mindedness would help them: The two had a plan: They would finish their undergraduate degrees, get law degrees then set up practice together in Salt Lake City where Jim's father would help. The Salt Lake law community could be cliquish but Jim's father would usher them in.

At the appointed dinner, Mrs. Netherfield served fried chicken, mashed potatoes and a gravy she indicated was made by Annette, "Who," Mrs. Netherfield added, "makes a fine gravy." Jim Bingley felt like he was eating with his aunt, the one who sold Tupperware, only Mrs. Netherfield was peddling nieces not containers for leftovers. "Jocelyn made the pie," said Mrs. Netherfield. "Both my nieces are excellent cooks and excellent with children. They can hardly wait to have them. And each is an excellent manager of resources. Both will make good wives."

Bingley looked out the window at the cloudless sky and longed to be in open air, or even down in the basement.

When Mrs. Netherfield had mentioned _wife_ or its plural several times more, her husband said, "Are you familiar, Jim, with Sir Francis Bacon's notions of wife and children?" Although Jim knew Bacon considered both impediments to great enterprises he played dumb.

Jim Bingley already felt that Mrs. Netherfield ran the house so he was surprised that her husband would so seem to contravene her. But once Dr. N had paraphrased the quote and asked, "What enterprises have you in mind?" Jim realized Dr. N. was a coconspirator when it came to marrying his nieces by marriage off – probably to get them out of his house, and only in part because they lived in it rent free.

Jim quickly found his plans for the future being plumbed, and Greg's too. Later that night he wrote to Greg, "Our landlady has you in mind for one of her nieces and I'm meant for the other. Destroy this. I think she looks through my stuff and will yours once it's here."

Chapter Two

The Bennet sisters, Jane and Lizzy, along with Charlotte, a friend they had made Lizzy's freshman year, shared one of the two bedrooms in an apartment on the third floor of a section of Campus Plaza. The other bedroom housed three girls with whom, though not at odds, the Bennet's and Charlotte had not met before the present school year had started.

Though they were not close friends, the six set out together one Tuesday evening for a church social for which they had been told to dress warmly. Further details had not been forthcoming. Everything except the initial meeting place had been kept secret. When the six arrived at the pick-up area, which was the parking lot of the Wilkinson Center, large trucks, their long beds full of loose hay, awaited them. Because the sides and gates of the truck beds were constructed of wooden slats, they looked old-fashioned.

The gates had not been let down yet, so as students, male and female, arrived they stood and talked in clusters. Suddenly, Lizzy Bennet decided to buy Swedish fish. Charlotte and Jane agreed. The three were hungry for something sweet and would eat it on their hayride to the barn, which they had now discovered was their destination. The three had also discovered that a square dance would be held at the barn. They told their roommate Ann, one of the three outside their circle, that they would be back presently and ran to the Wilkinson Center. Its candy counter was just inside its main doors. The three lined up and each bought a bag of Swedish fish, which were not prepackaged. Instead, the clerk weighed the fish then scooped them into short, slender, white paper bags. Swedish fish were something Lizzy bought when she was money ahead and whenever she bought them the bags reminded her of the gloves she used to wear to church on Sundays. Sadly, gloves like that were now out of fashion. As Jane, the last to pay, was doing so, Charlotte said, "Shall we use the bathroom? My guess we've got a long drive ahead of us and who knows whether the barn has facilities."

The three, who had been some of the first to arrive, had been waiting awhile so this seemed an excellent plan. Only, the bathroom was not near the candy counter. So the three ran to it. When they came back to the parking lot only one truck remained. It was the truck that held their three roommates and indeed those three had asked that the driver wait. The clouds that were moving in had started to create a sunset which Lizzy, as a young man held his hand out to help her on board, noticed. "What a kaleidoscope," said Lizzy. Her comment caught Greg Darcy's ear because it defined Lizzy as someone who noticed something other than self. Darcy had now arrived and was making his first appearance in the ward. As said, her comment caught his ear but when he got a close up of Lizzy, though her looks were, as he would later class them, "tolerable," he felt she was not as pretty as her sister. As the three girls had run abreast from the Wilkinson Center Jim Bingley had pointed Jane, who was in the center and her sister who was to the right of Jane, out.

Once the girls were on board, Bingley, by climbing through the hay, managed to sit by Jane and talk to her and the others. The girls offered him dips into their bags of Swedish fish. Darcy, though, remained aloof, off in the corner. When Charlotte commented on this Bingley, after pointing to the bags of Swedish fish, called out, "Darcy, don't be antisocial. Come, eat Swedish fish." Darcy declined with a nod which made Lizzy think him standoffish. Indeed, Bingley, who guessed her thoughts, agreed. "My friend Greg Darcy never plays well to strangers."

Lizzy answered, "If he made an effort – climbed over, met us and 'broke bread with us' – – he would no longer feel like a stranger."

"Yes. I know. But leave him be. No one talks Greg Darcy into anything. And he would most likely rather think than talk. After all, he only arrived last night. He has jet lag and his block classes are compressed. He wanted to stay home because of homework. But I convinced him. So, no doubt, he's thinking about a paper he already has to write." Bingley looked at Darcy then with a laugh added, "No, actually he's reading. Look, Darcy's taken a book out of his coat pocket." The three girls looked at Darcy in the dimming light as he read from a small but hard backed textbook.

"How desperate," Lizzy said.

Jane, true to her ultra kind nature, said, "No. He's simply making hay while the sun shines."

Bingley disagreed. "About some things Darcy is an idiot, which I tell him from time to time."

Neither man was an idiot. But Bingley, though intelligent, was not quite as shrewd or smart as Darcy except in matters of the heart or in social matters. There he constantly eclipsed his friend.

Once in the barn Annette and Jocelyn claimed, by virtue of their aunt being Greg and Jim's landlady, the two men as partners for the first dance. But once that first dance ended Jim sought Jane out and danced two dances with her. Because there were more women than men Lizzy and Charlotte were now on the wall, or more properly sitting against a partition. Behind the partition was an old stall. The two sat near the edge close to which stood Greg Darcy and now Jim Bingley. Bingley, who had come to Darcy to beg him to dance, quietly said, "There are lots of pretty girls in the room."

"None," said Darcy, "to tempt me. You've found the only beauty."

"Jane Bennet is unusually pretty. But her sister, is pretty too. And she's sitting because men are scarce. It would do you both good."

Darcy said, "She's just tolerable, and I refuse to take other men's leavings."

What a strange word," Bingley said, "to use for someone who's pretty."

Darcy was competitive, and because he was, most likely felt he ought to have had the prettier of the sisters.

Unbeknownst to the two men, who were keeping their voices down, Lizzy and Charlotte heard their words.

"So," said Lizzy, once the two men had walked off, "I have become other men's leavings."

Charlotte, not familiar with the word, asked what leavings were.

Lizzy answered, "Leftovers I suppose. Although I believe it's a term also used in mining. I'm the dross after the precious metal's been extracted. Or, maybe _tailings_ the word for that. I don't know."

To give those who'd been sitting a chance to dance, the Relief Society president now concocted a plan whereby the men who were idling in the corners and along the walls were drafted into service. The women who'd been sitting wrote their names on scraps of paper which were put into a young man's baseball cap after which the president took the cap to each idle man so he could choose, by virtue of the slip he'd pulled, a partner. Darcy pulled "Lizzy Bennet." Only, when he went to claim her Lizzy said, "No." When he wondered why, she answered, "Just sitting it out," which she did. She sat that dance out, but after it she said yes to the next partner who claimed her.

As he watched her dance Darcy recognized how shapely she was – more so than her sister. And her face, as he admitted to himself as he looked at it again, was pretty. Plus, as she came off the floor he noticed her eyes. They were a dark brown, almost black, and beautifully shaped. And rather than kind looking, as are so many brown eyes, hers were filled with smarts. (At home Jane was called the beauty, Lizzy the brain.) Also, she had blonde hair which contrasted in an appealing way with her black eyes. (Darcy prided himself on his ability to judge quickly and accurately and since Darcy never liked admitting he was wrong, the notion that Lizzy might be more than tolerable now irked him.)

The Netherfields' nieces were bold enough to claim Greg and Jim for the last dance. Lizzy didn't care even if Jane might.

When it was time to get back in the trucks Darcy positioned himself to help the ladies into the truck bed as had another young man. When Lizzy's turn arrived, even though she was right handed and Darcy was positioned to her right and ready to help her, she chose the gentleman to her left and let Darcy help Jane who was a half step behind her. Bingley, along with the other young men, got in and, as before, Bingley sought Jane out and took the spot beside her. This time Darcy followed suit, but sat by Lizzy. Jane could get any man talking and Bingley needed no help so the two were immediately immersed in conversation. Not Lizzy and Darcy though. At first Lizzy was amused by Darcy's lack of skill: Darcy sat lump-like even after Lizzy said, "It's clouding up."

After a long pause, Darcy grunted, "Yeah." then sat lump-like again. Another long pause ensued and since Lizzy thought it might continue all the way home she finally said, "I've commented on the weather now it's your turn to comment on it or on something other – equally polite."

Darcy said nothing back because Darcy could think of nothing to say. So, after another pause Elizabeth added, "You could say something like, "The air is brisk."

"Is it?" Darcy asked. He couldn't feel the cold because his jacket was waterproof and lined. As he asked, "Is it?," he wondered whether Lizzy felt the cold and if she did he planned to proffer his jacket.

"Are you cold?" asked Darcy.

Her answer, "No. Just making conversation," temporarily ruined Darcy's plans for chivalry. But moments later when lightning flashed, thunder pealed, and rain, in a short cloud burst, pelted the wagon bed he took his jacket off and held it over Lizzy's head.

She said, "Come on under," which he did. But their closeness did nothing to stimulate conversation and when shortly thereafter the truck returned to the parking lot in front of the Wilkinson Center where it was no longer raining Lizzy, as she handed him her end of his coat, added, "Thank you." After which she said good bye.

On her part, a terse farewell, but less terse than his. As he watched her walk off, he envied Bingley's way with words.

On their walk down hill to Campus Plaza – which was a short walk from the Wilkinson Center – Jane was full of talk about Jim Bingley who, using Darcy as his model, had offered Jane his coat, and Charlotte had met a young man named Tom Collins whom she reported was headed to a chaplaincy in the armed forces. Mr. Collins, or rather soon to be Lt. Collins had the week before been promised his chaplaincy which he would take up in three months time. The young man, Mr. Collins, had promised to call on Charlotte in the near future.

"Did he actually," said Lizzy, "use the words _call on you_?"

Charlotte said, "Well, yes." Lizzy thought he was probably odd but said nothing further to that effect. Charlotte was not very pretty and seemed pleased at the attention, so who was Lizzy to say anything to the contrary?

When Mrs. Netherfield's nieces returned home she quizzed them. Both could happily report that they'd danced several times with Jim Bingley and Greg Darcy. Neither was willing to admit that they'd done the asking and their aunt, with her aristocratic ways, assumed the opposite. So neither had to confess. Their aunt did, though, wonder with whom Darcy and Bingley had also danced. Annette, who had already claimed Darcy, was happy to report that he danced with no one but her. However Jocelyn could not claim the same because Bingley had danced too many times with Jane Bennet. When Mrs. Netherfield asked about Jane both nieces agreed she was pretty but offered, "She smiles too much." And in describing her sister Lizzy, Annette, who had noticed that Darcy had proffered Lizzy his coat, said,

"She's not as pretty as Jane, and Lizzy laughs too much." Mrs. Netherfield and her nieces, with the idea that men liked women who were grim, left off talking about people in the student ward. But when Dr. N. heard the name "Lizzy Bennet" he said, "Lizzy is in a class I teach and is quite bright."

Mrs. Netherfield answered, "I'll warrant not as bright as our nieces."

Dr. Netherfield took his wife's words as a cue to hush, and went to his study.

Not too long after, lights out everywhere brought an end to everyone's discussions and a hush settled onto the city of Provo.

Chapter Three

Four days later, a service project at a church owned apple orchard marked the second time Greg and Lizzy met. The project was something of an ox in-a-mire. The apples had matured late that year and now the church feared a frost. Unlike the square dance, the students had not come en masse. Instead, they caught rides with those with cars. Annette and Jocelyn had offered to drive Greg and Jim in their aunt's car. But the two refused and found a ride with the president of the Elder's Quorum. The Bennet sisters had driven with the President of the Relief Society who as a fourth year nursing student owned a car which she used to commute to Salt Lake City for clinical. She and the women who had driven with her got to the orchard late, so late the sun was now up. Their reason: a flat tire "Which," the president reported as they climbed out, "Lizzy fixed admirably."

When Bingley, who had been waiting for Jane, said, "Changing a tire is not something any woman can do. Where did you learn?" Lizzy answered,

"I didn't. I got the owner's manual from the glove box and followed the directions."

To this the president said, "Don't let Lizzy fool you. Owner's manual? In that dim light? Without Lizzy's expertise we would have been stranded forever on that lonesome road that leads to the orchard. After all, we were the last to leave Provo. So who would have come upon us?"

Someone said, "The search party we would have organized then sent out."

As he looked at Jane and Lizzy Bingley said, "Today's women are so accomplished." Someone asked what he meant so he answered, "Well, in addition to changing a tire, every woman I know seems able to embroider, knit and crochet."

Lizzy said, "You can thank Primary for teaching us to sew. Who here doesn't remember the sampler we embroidered in Gaynotes?"

"Yes," the president said, "That cross stitched home – and words about it."

"I still have mine," said Charlotte. "My mother had it framed."

"As we can attest to," said Jane. "She's hung it in our bedroom. I wish I still had mine. What happened to ours?"

Lizzy did not know.

Darcy now said, "To be truly accomplished one must do more than sew."

The president of the Relief Society had a nature as sweet as Jane's so no one took offense – even Darcy – when she answered, "Forgive us, Greg, for waxing nostalgic. But those samplers with their pastel threads bring back pleasant hours."

Of course Jim Bingley paired up with Jane and Lizzy expected Tom Collins would claim Charlotte, but Tom Collins never appeared (his reason which was given later: he had to report to Fort Hill for his physical). This meant that Lizzy and Charlotte began working together. Their first job was to put the apples on the ground into barrels. They soon learned from the older gentleman who managed the farm that the apples that had already fallen would become apple sauce.

Young men on ladders picked the apples still hanging on the trees, of which there were many. Bingley handed his to Jane. And if she'd been looking – but at this point was not – Lizzy would've seen Darcy up a ladder picking apples from a different tree. The apples he picked he put in a bag strapped over his shoulder which he would climb down and empty from time to time.

The bishop of their ward was an old married man, but both his counselors were young. One, Brother Jessup, had an equally young wife. Both Jessup's were still students at BYU. One had to admire Marcy Jessup. Though eight months pregnant, she was out harvesting apples. In addition to being energetic enough to harvest apples she was beautiful, but likeable. Everyone adored her, especially her husband – even after he'd turned the radio in their truck on to a country western station (so that everyone could listen) and she had said, "Rod, please. Someone's either dying or getting his heart broken in country western tunes." Rod smiled then switched the station to rock.

Unbeknownst to her Darcy stole glances at Lizzy who had on a poor-boy, a form fitting ribbed sweater. It was red like the parka she had worn but taken off and set alongside her purse. Darcy thought the poor-boy accentuated her shape and that the red color of her parka was not one usually seen.

Lizzy and Greg's paths crossed as Rod Jessup's radio played a song then popular called "Spinning Wheel." When Greg caught Lizzy temporarily swaying to its beat he asked, "Do you like Blood Sweat and Tears?"

She said, "I like their horns, but not their music."

Darcy, though he said nothing, had to agree. Blood Sweat and Tears' music was nothing special but the brass instruments it used were unique – to rock anyway. Had Lizzy indicated she liked the group he might have invited her to its upcoming performance at BYU. But it was just as well that she didn't like Blood Sweat and Tears. He had been at the Y less than a week and his school work, the square dance, and now the service project had buried him. In fact, he hadn't planned to come today but Bingley urged him. And in matters of conscience – and he did not deem the square dance one but a service project was – Darcy would always relent.

Lizzy had to laugh at Annette and Jocelyn. She now noticed that both followed Darcy around. "Why don't you," they said, "hand us the apples you pick and we'll put them in bags."

"It's faster this way and less bending for me."

"Can we get you something to drink from the water cooler?" Several large tin water coolers stood on tree stumps.

"No," Darcy said, "I'll get a drink myself the next time I climb down."

Darcy frustrated Jocelyn, Annette and their aunt because – as Bingley predicted he would – he often refused their overtures.

When some of the apples were identified as discards a young woman said, "Let's use them to predict the future." As she subsequently explained, "If you cut an apple in half, and the number of seeds are even, it's lucky."

"What about odd," asked another?

"Unlucky, I think."

A third young woman said, "If you peel an apple in one long piece and throw the peel over your shoulder it will fall in the shape of the initial of the man you will marry."

This seemed fun so the ring leaders of this group found a young man with a pocket knife on him and one of them borrowed it and began paring the apple. As she drew the knife toward her, her hand slipped and she sliced herself.

The president of the Relief Society, who again, was a nursing student, was called to diagnose. After one of the young men loaned a bandana to sop up the blood, the Relief Society president, after examining the hand said, "I had a cut like this once which I thought needed stitches. It was really long. My mother agreed and took me to our doctor who explained it wasn't the length but the depth. Like mine, your cut looks long, not deep. I would happily drive you to campus to have it looked at by a doctor. The Health Center's open till four on Saturdays."

This is what the young woman did. Only she had the young man who loaned the knife drive her.

In the Relief Society president's car – on their way home – someone said, "Greg Darcy is proud, of that we all agree. Linda Havens said she worked near him for over an hour and he never said a word."

Jane stuck up for Darcy. "Jim Bingley," she said, "says Darcy's under pressure because of his classes."

"That doesn't mean he can't talk while he's picking apples. How Jim and Greg can be friends is mysterious to me. Jim is kind and friendly but Greg Darcy, while he might not be mean, makes one feel stupid with his silence. And his looks of disdain intimidate me too. The two couldn't be different."

Lizzy silently agreed.

Chapter Four

With the idea that one should keep one's friends close and one's enemies closer, on the afternoon of the service project at the apple orchard, The Netherfield's nieces invited the Bennet sisters to spend the following Saturday afternoon with them. The Netherfield's home, a ranch, was designed so that the Netherfield's, including their nieces, lived upstairs. They also lived in the half of the basement which was walkout. An interior staircase led to the walk out portion and the walkout portion contained a family room and a bath and bedroom. The other half of the basement, which was not walkout and had its own entrance – an outdoor staircase leading down - contained the three bedroom, one bath apartment plus kitchen, where lived Greg Darcy, Jim Bingley and four other young men. A door, which was locked from the Netherfield side, separated the apartment from the downstairs rooms that the Netherfield family used.

Because he had seen her on campus the day before, Jim Bingley knew that Jane and her sister Lizzy would be at the Netherfield's the following day. He wouldn't be at his apartment when they arrived but would most likely come home before the sisters left. Darcy, though, because he had sequestered himself at the library so he could keep pace with his block classes had no clue. Darcy had not spoken to Bingley in almost two days. With his hours in the library their paths did not cross.

At noon on the afternoon in question Darcy left the library for the Wilkinson Center Cafeteria where he planned to buy lunch. On the way, however, he discovered he'd left his wallet on the dresser in his room so he turned home instead. As he approached the Netherfield's he saw the Bennet sisters who were about to cross Apple. He knew that both lived at Campus Plaza (Bingley had told him) so when he caught up to them – which he hurried to do – he asked, "Why are you so far afield?"

"We have," Lizzy said, "been invited to your landlady's for the afternoon."

When Darcy wondered why Jane explained, "The Relief Society has decided to make a baby quilt for Sister Jessup and Lizzy and I and the Netherfield's nieces have been drafted to quilt."

Darcy said, "Is the entire Relief Society expected?"

"No," Jane answered. "Only we four."

When Darcy wondered why only the four of them would quilt Lizzy said, "Logistics. I suppose." When he wondered what she meant by "logistics" she added, "Baby quilts are small and admit only one quilter per side."

"Makes sense," Darcy said. His mother liked to quilt but because he was a private person he left this unsaid and had Lizzy known his reason she might have laughingly answered, "Best to keep such tastes secret. Quilting is an evil." And she would have said so precisely because Darcy irked her. But she knew nothing of his thoughts and so had said nothing.

Annette, who had been watching from the window, decided to break the conclave up by enlisting Darcy's aid. So she came out the front door, down the steps and turned toward the stop sign where the three stood conversing. "I'm glad," she said, "you've come. We need your help. Could you carry my aunt's quilting frames down for us." Annette was husky enough to carry them herself but he agreed. The quilting frames, which sat in the middle of the living room floor, were, like his mother's, a collection of long and short boards. Some were so long that Darcy had to carefully maneuver around the furniture near the staircase that led down to the basement. He stayed to help the women set the frame up in the basement but made it understood he would have to leave right after. Annette let him into his apartment by unlocking the Netherfield side. She left the door unlocked as she issued Darcy an invitation to come through if he and or Bingley returned before the ladies' quilting session had ended. Darcy had made plain his need to return to the library but said he might be back at his apartment in time to see the quilters before the party broke up.

The Netherfield nieces, who had learned to quilt from their mother, hoped the Bennet's had not. But Lizzy and Jane were both as adept as their hostesses. When Jocelyn asked, "Did you learn to quilt from your mother?" Lizzy said, "No.' But left the fact that her mother would probably not be caught dead quilting unsaid.

"Oh. She can't quilt?" asked Jocelyn.

"My guess," Lizzy said, "is that if she wanted to she could. She's an excellent seamstress both with machine and by hand. But has no time for sewing now."

Annette asked, "Why not?"

Jane kindly answered, "Our mother works." When the sisters wondered "where," Jane added, "During the day she teaches high school math after which she drives to Nellis."

"What's Nellis?"

"An air force base."

"Where she teaches math?"

"No. At Nellis she's a systems analyst."

"What do systems analysts do?"

"Not sure. But our mother helps the military use computers to track pilots involved in war games."

Annette and Jocelyn tried not to look impressed, and to affect disinterest quickly changed the subject.

When the quilt was all but finished – only the binding was left and the nieces indicated they would bind it themselves – Dr. and Mrs. Netherfield came home. The pair had spent the afternoon shopping. The last leg of this shopping trip had been the visit they made to the BYU Creamery where Dr. Netherfield had purchased ice cream. Once he had put the ice cream and the other groceries away he went downstairs and, to his wife's annoyance, invited the Bennet's up for ice cream.

As the five were coming up the stairs Jocelyn heard Greg Darcy, who had called out, "Coming through," come through the still unlocked door that separated the basement apartment from the family room in the walk out portion of the Netherfield's basement. So she asked her uncle if she could invite Greg too and when her uncle said "yes" she whipped around and in her rush to get down the stairs knocked Jane Bennet, who was last in line, down the rest of the flight. Jane had cushioned her head with her arms but her leg, the left one, when she had been whipped around, was badly twisted, and hurt. Now at the bottom of the stairs, Darcy scooped her up and suggested he lay her somewhere. Dr. Netherfield, in the midst of the young people (including Jim who had just arrived and seeing the door open was now at the bottom of the stairs too) offered the bed in the Netherfield's downstairs bedroom.

Summoned by a call, a neighbor, who was a doctor, came at once. "The ankle," he said, "is not broken, but it's sprained. She ought to stay off it the rest of the week. Have her apply ice then heat later, and get her some pillows so she can prop the leg up." The doctor had brought an ace bandage which he used to wrap Jane's ankle. Dr. Netherfield, yet again to his spouse's annoyance, made the decision to let Jane and Lizzy stay, not only the night, but he invited both to stay as long as necessary. Lizzy, accompanied by Bingley, was dispatched to fetch clothes. Crutches were needed and since Darcy knew a young man in a basement apartment on Apple who was about Jane's height and had just come off a pair, he volunteered to track that gentleman and his crutches down.

When the three returned with the clothes and crutches, they were asked to dinner. Lizzy would take Jane's dinner down but after the fact. (Jane was now sleeping so everyone had decided to let her.)

Dr. Netherfield, from a genuine love of literature, started the conversation off by asking Lizzy her opinion about Ring Lardner, which is who the students in his class were currently studying. She gave her opinion which impressed Darcy. Darcy had no clue as to whom Ring Lardner was, but Darcy would've been content to listen to Dr. Netherfield, whom he could see was well read, and Lizzy, who though not as well read, was on her way. But Bingley wished to talk about Jane. "Yes, how is she?" added the Netherfield nieces. To assuage Bingley both nieces were solicitous about Jane's condition and to prove they were plied Lizzy with questions about it. But once Bingley and Darcy left both were unconcerned and definitely unhelpful. For example, when hot applications for Jane's ankle were needed and Lizzy applied to Annette for a heating pad Annette said, "I'll try to locate one." But one was not forthcoming. For this reason, the following morning when Lizzy left for school, she decided to somehow get Jane back to their apartment. A member of the Relief Society Presidency was in one of Lizzy's classes so she applied to her and she called the president who agreed to transport Jane home. Annette, Jocelyn, Jim, and Greg were onsite when Jane left. When the President of the Relief Society asked for Greg and Jim's help, they agreed. So, once Jane, on crutches, reached the sliding glass door that led out of the walkout basement, Greg and Jim made a chair with their hands and forearms, and ferried Jane in it up the steep heel. Lizzy followed behind with the borrowed crutches. Once up the hill Jane got back on crutches but the grass proved too hard to maneuver – too many gopher holes – so Greg and Jim carried her again. Both had already agreed to come along to help carry Jane upstairs to her apartment. So, once the car was reached, everyone crowded in. The president had barely backed out of the drive when she said, "Why didn't you ask the Netherfield's to drive you home?"

Jane, always quick to defend even her detractors, tried to say something about how busy the Netherfield's were and that she and Lizzy had imposed enough. But Lizzy, of a different nature, said, "Impose? We wouldn't have been and you, Jane, wouldn't now be on crutches if Jocelyn hadn't pushed you down the stairs."

"Did she really?" the president asked.

"Well," Lizzy said, "not intentionally. She did it more like Rhett 'pushed' Scarlett."

Darcy laughed at the allusion.

After the gentleman helped Jane upstairs – the two men flanked Jane and helped her hop – Darcy mentioned the campus movie theater and its coming attraction. After doing so he asked Lizzy out.

Before she could answer Bingley turned to her and said, "You've chipped his armor."

When Lizzy wondered what he meant Bingley added, "Darcy has decreed that he'll never fall into the BYU marriage trap, and a date is the first slip.

Darcy said, "Jim, your brain works like too many BYU coeds'. It quickly jumps from date, to love, to matrimony."

To show Greg hers did not Lizzy said, "To disabuse you of your notion, I'll decline the date."

After Bingley (whom Lizzy could see was drawn to her sister) offered to get this and that – all for Jane's comfort – and Lizzy declined, Greg and Jim left and Lizzy set to her homework and only broke off from it to check on Jane, or bring water or meals, to her bedside.

Chapter Five

Barely a week had elapsed before Mr. Collins called on Charlotte at the apartment she shared with the Bennet sisters and three others. Because he called at dinnertime all six roommates were home. And all were, because it was a Saturday, dressed down in jeans which was the norm. Mr. Collins, however, appeared in a suit, a collared shirt and, "Of all things," Ann, one of Charlotte, Lizzy and Jane's roommates, whispered, "a cravat." There's something pompous to a cravat, Lizzy thought, when she noticed it. Not to mention, everyone except Mr. Collins realized that cravats were outmoded. Because the roommates were dressed casually, which again, was the norm for a Saturday, they expected anyone with sense to dress the same. This made Lizzy wonder whether Mr. Collins had sense.

"Plus," whispered Ann, now for a second time, "smell his cologne? It makes me dizzy." Jane did not like to talk negatively about people and Jane and Lizzy had been careful not to do so about Mr. Collins around Charlotte because she had so hoped he would visit, and now that he had she looked elated.

So elated Lizzy worked hard not to give with a look, or even a sparkle in her eye, her amusement over Tom Collins' clothes because they were, after all, his "come callin'" clothes. And she applied this to his come callin' cologne as well. Ann, who was not yet aware of Charlotte's interest and therefore not concerned about sparing her feelings, said out loud, "If ever my perfume is too strong, please tell me." Mr. Collins was not fazed. Most likely he had not connected her statement to his cologne.

Since he arrived at dinner he was asked to eat. "Which he probably did by design," Ann later said. All the girls chipped in, money was tight, and though they would sometimes make a meal to which they could each invite a young man, Ann and most of the others did not like feeding strays, mostly because it strapped them financially.

It was Lizzy's turn to make dinner and she had cooked lasagna. Both she and Jane were good cooks – their mother had taught them and in fact after their parents had divorced and their mother had turned to teaching and Nellis to make ends meet the two daughters had taken over the kitchen to help her out.

As he took a mouthful Tom Collins said, "Scrumptious."

Lizzy again thought he must be odd to use a word like "scrumptious." After he begged to know which of the fair ladies present had cooked the lasagna Tom Collins said, "This lasagna reminds me of that made by Mrs. de Bourgh's cook."

"Who's Mrs. de Bourgh?" asked Charlotte.

"She is," Collins said, "the wife of the right honorable General George Lewis de Bourgh and to me is something of a patroness." No one had to ask what he meant because in a stream Collins explained that General de Bourgh commanded Fort -; that Collins had met Mrs. de Bourgh when she and her husband were stationed in the confines of Tom Collins' mission; that Mrs. de Bourgh was a member, her husband not; that Mrs. de Bourgh had befriended him as she did every missionary; and that with a nonmember husband Mrs. De Bourgh had always hoped that one of the missionaries in the church would touch her husband's soul.

At that point Lizzy began to see Mrs. de Bourgh as someone human and Collins as someone who was not entirely silly (although still silly enough) because her mother, Mrs. Bennet had joined the church to marry her father and now that they were not – had quit, and Lizzy sometimes felt the longing that occurs in a family where some believe and some do not.

"My patroness," Collins now said, "influenced her husband to give me the Chaplain ship at Fort-. And when I take it up I will have a lovely home while stationed there. Not anywhere as luxurious as Rosings, the home in which the General and his wife live, but nice enough. A great starter home in which to begin a family. He looked into the ladies' eyes before he also said, "Long ago, Fort- appropriated nearby older homes as base housing for officers, and even the smallest has charm."

That very next day, a Sunday, Charlotte thought Collins would sit by her at church. But when meeting time came he sat by Lizzy instead. Charlotte, as chorister, had by force sat where she always sat: on the opposite side of the congregation to Lizzy. Lizzy liked to sit on the side with the wall of windows. But Charlotte had to sit on the inside, windowless, partition wall to be close to the piano. One of Charlotte's duties as chorister was to post the hymn numbers on a portable stand that faced the congregation. As she was returning to her seat from doing so she saw Collins come in, look around, start toward her, look over at Lizzy and Jane and then sit by Lizzy by design. At least Charlotte felt he had done so by design.

Charlotte was correct. He had chosen the seat by Lizzy. To give you a glimpse of the workings of his mind – at first he'd intended to sit next to Charlotte and headed toward her side of the congregation. But, when he remembered how pretty her roommate Jane Bennet was he decided to sit next to her. However, the seats on both sides of Jane were taken, one by Lizzy, the other by Jim Bingley. Since sitting next to someone at church was a sure sign of affection (perhaps this was why Darcy sat alone: he didn't want to appear interested in any young woman) he realized Jane was taken so Collins sat by Lizzy instead. When Lizzy looked up and saw his cravat and remembered that Charlotte, even on the opposite side of the congregation, could see where Collins had chosen to sit, she couldn't decide between relief – relief that Collins had spared Charlotte (she felt that Charlotte could do better) or annoyance.

Lizzy wished Collins would leave her alone. But instead he whispered, passed her notes and walked her home. On the way he called her "fair lady," plied her with compliments, the greatest of which in his mind at least was that she and his esteemed patroness, the general's lady, Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh, were, "too, too alike." Because they were, Collins added, "The two of you shall get along famously." When he said "famously" Lizzy worried Collins would propose at once. And thinking he would Lizzy realized Collins was at the "Y" to find a bride.

At the doorstep of her apartment Collins asked her for a date that following evening. Lizzy declined to which Collins said, "I know fair ladies say 'no' to increase a suitor's ardor, so I shall ask again."

"Trust me," Lizzy said, "I wish to arouse no ardor and am firm in my refusal." Regardless, Collins, via telephone, asked again, several times, for dates – only to be refused. Undeterred, Collins appeared the day after his most recent phone call – again at dinner – this time with hand-picked flowers which Lizzy thought were for her but the bouquet was for Charlotte. Charlotte accepted it and Collins now directed his overtures back toward her. After dinner he confined his conversation to Charlotte and before he left he'd asked Charlotte on the Friday coming to bowl with him. The Wilkinson Center had an alley. He would pick her up at six which meant he would again eat with them, after which since it was close they would walk to the bowling alley in the previously mentioned (named Wilkinson) student center.

"At least he isn't wearing a suit," Ann said as Collins and Charlotte left for the bowling alley. What none of the ladies knew until Charlotte, home from bowling explained: General and Mrs. de Bourgh had told Collins to eschew anything – jeans, slouchy T shirts – worn by hippies. As an about to be soldier, Collins had been instructed to dress up.

"That explains the cravat," Lizzy said, "and the Sunday suit." To bowl, Collins had worn a pair of chinos, a pair of oxfords, and a polo shirt.

"Where," Ann asked, "is his uniform?" Collins had yet to receive it, explained Charlotte but would receive it with his pending commission. Collins felt he was the beneficiary of incredible luck or so Charlotte said. As she further explained, Collins had a degree from a small college back home where he and his family were largely the only members and with his degree (in University Studies) he hadn't found work beyond the part time job he'd held since college (which was that of a stocker at Albertson's). Finally, Mrs. de Bourgh, with whom he had kept in touch by correspondence, had written offering, on her husband's behalf, a commission. After accepting it Collins transferred to an Albertson's in Utah, took his savings, and moved to BYU to find a bride so that he could take someone with him to his new life and commission. This move had been made largely on the advice of Mrs. de Bourgh. Collins said she had hinted that he find a wife. Although "hinting" must not have been her aim because she had – in bold letters – written: _find a wife who is a lady for my sake and for yours someone who is active in our church._

Although Lizzy hated to advance Collin's aims, when Lizzy's sister said, "If Collins wants someone devoted to our church who better than Charlotte?," Lizzy said,

"Yes. Charlotte is devout and in the best way because she is devout without being pious or hypocritical. Plus," Lizzy said, "Charlotte, you are a lady." Charlotte never raised her voice; the way she had her belongings arranged in her part of their room was well-thought out; she wore the clothes of a lady (nothing outrageous – in fact Charlotte dressed in an elegant manner – for a college girl); and her bearing was regal, but regal without being haughty. She was the aristocrat the Netherfield women believed themselves to be.

Something which was made plain when the students in their ward got together one evening to work on their genealogy. In preparation they were to bring what they already had. That, in the case of Jane and Lizzy was nothing, but since they did not want to come empty handed they called a cousin who let them borrow a pedigree chart and set of group sheets – both of ancestors the three women had in common. The Bennet sisters had four family group sheets. Charlotte had twenty-four, and was descended on her pedigree chart from the Stuart kings. Collins liked that. Plus, on one sheet she had the name Lady Alice de Coverly which sent Collins wild because he recognized de Coverly as a progenitor of his patroness. (Collins had no genealogy to speak of which made him all the more attentive to that of his patroness. And the forbears of his patroness were a group so illustrious that Mrs. de Bourgh never talked long without mentioning one or another.) And when Collins saw the name Lady Alice de Coverly on one of the sheets Darcy brought he picked the sheet from Darcy's hand and ran wildly waving it overhead toward Charlotte. Close inspection revealed a connection. And when Darcy came to claim his sheet and Collins quizzed him he revealed that yes, it was true, Darcy and Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh were related. In fact, Mrs. de Bourgh was Darcy's aunt. "My esteemed patroness and your mother seem to be sisters."

"So it seems," said Darcy.

Lizzy smiled. What entertainment. The look on Darcy's face as Collins hovered, talked, and almost drooled over the connection, not to mention the connection between Charlotte, Darcy and Mr. Collins was delightful because Darcy was proud – too proud to wish a connection to Collins. In fact, to Lizzy, Darcy seemed too proud to want to connect with anyone. To shake Collins off, since Lizzy was nearby, Darcy took an interest in Lizzy's group sheets which only covered the Bennet side of the family: their father's people. "Where are your mother's?" Darcy said.

"Undone."

The answer to "Why?" –

"Because they're not members and none of us has caught the genealogy bug." Some one else asked Lizzy's mother's maiden name and when Lizzy answered Skochenko Darcy said, "She must be Russian." Darcy was taking Russian because his father had once been in the Foreign Service there. And though Darcy aimed to study law serving in the Foreign Service like his father intrigued him too. Lizzy's yes further sealed Collin's "of late" interest in Charlotte. He had still had Lizzy in the back of his mind, but now felt that General de Bourgh, who hated Russians, would object. At once, totally off Lizzy, he asked Charlotte that very night to become his wife, and the two set a date for later in the week to ring shop.

Chapter Six

In honor of Halloween the Young Men and Young Women's Mutual Improvement Association of Lizzy and Jane's student ward scheduled a dance. As president of the Young Women's Mutual Improvement Association Charlotte was doing the lion's share of the work. And her roommates helped. For instance, they helped Charlotte use a pumpkin shaped cutter to make sugar cookies, which they iced with bright orange butter cream frosting. They made other cookies too – chocolate chip – and planned to help Charlotte "make" punch out of cans of Hawaiian Punch laced with 7up as soon as they had helped Charlotte decorate the "room" in the Wilkinson Center. The room wasn't actually a room, but a section of the large downstairs ballroom, which was used for social dance classes.

Social dance was a popular PE course at BYU and was the course – held in fact in this very same portion of the ballroom – in which Lizzy had met Charlotte. Charlotte's partner – Charlotte and her partner were on BYU's ballroom dance team – was the teacher of record. But Charlotte, who was a dietician working on a master's, helped him with his class. Typically, the two demonstrated following which they danced with class members.

This Halloween dance was something of a costume party, but not with typical Halloween costumes. Instead, as a sock hop, the students were to wear clothes from the 50s. To get their costumes Jane, Lizzy, Charlotte and other roommates and friends had visited their church's thrift store – a place called Deseret Industries. Lizzy loved DI, a place she had discovered while in high school. Her Laurel teacher – Lizzie was a Laurel her junior and senior year – had been service oriented and as such had volunteered her Laurels for Deseret Industries. The class spent a Saturday helping out. They sorted items in a back room after which they took them to the main floor where they placed them or hung them. In the process Lizzy found a wool jumper which fit and looked brand new. It was cheap and with the employee discount everyone as workers for the day got even cheaper.

When she reached BYU she and her roommates their first year – in fact before school had pretty much started – had like other freshmen in the "apartment" dorms visited DI to buy a sofa. In the case of Lizzy and her roommates theirs was a big old high back brown sofa with small orange flowers. After buying it the roommates had somehow had it hauled to the back door of their apartment after which they pushed it into their kitchen. Once it was in place, Lizzy and her roommates could entertain in their kitchen or just lie around. Lizzy liked to read on the sofa. The price of the sofa had been fifteen dollars which made the sofa easily dispensable at the end of the year.

As they often did when they needed transport, Lizzy, Jane, Charlotte and their other roommates caught a ride to DI with the Relief Society President whose long Pontiac could fit untold numbers of students. No bucket seats in her car. And, as was often the case, Charlotte found the jewel – a black and white hounds-tooth check blazer that when Lizzy said, "That's not 50's style," Charlotte answered,

"I know. It's so modern I'm adding it to my trousseau." Lizzy was jealous because the jacket would top anything off with style.

For their costumes the ladies found full skirts or dresses with full skirts and scrounged some ballet flats. Charlotte, who'd participated in lots of ballroom dance competitions, knew that her competitors who danced the Lindy, which was a version of the 50s jive, wore dresses with full skirts and ballet flats.

Charlotte told Collins she'd buy his costume. He did have a pair of straight legged jeans, which she told him to wear cuffed up and at DI she bought him a Marlon Brando type round neck T shirt and a black jacket the cut of which resembled the cut of leather jackets worn by bikers. Collins worried that the General and his wife might think ill of him in his costume but Charlotte assured Collins that the de Bourghs would think nothing at all because no one would photograph him therefore the de Bourghs would never see.

Collins hauled the food and decorations and his fiancé and her roommates in his car. Because parking in the Wilkinson Center front lot was impossible – for students at least – Charlotte, Collins and the rest of the ladies unloaded the gear at a porticoed side entrance close to the ball room. Charlotte and her roommates took the lighter stuff – the cookies, the decorations they had made: the construction paper ghosts, witches, cats and pumpkins; to the portion of the ballroom that was theirs. And Collins, after he parked off campus, brought the case lots that he had stacked on the sidewalk under the portico. Lizzy had to admit Collins, though he lacked savoir faire, was helpful, even if his helpfulness made him seem eager instead of suave – Collins could never be like James Dean.

As a member of the presidency of the Young Women's Mutual Improvement association, Jocelyn, accompanied by Annette, arrived with her share of the cookies and decorations. Annette and Jocelyn's decorations consisted of rolls of black and orange crepe paper which they began twisting and taping up. The third member of the presidency had worked with Charlotte to collect dance tunes, rock and roll classics, which had a jive beat – tunes like "Rockin' Robin," "Tutti Frutti," "Johhny B. Goode," along with slower tunes like "Some Kind of Wonderful" and "In the Mood."

Collins who, unbeknownst to Charlotte, couldn't dance, volunteered to keep the 7up laced Hawaiian Punch and cookies flowing. With his faux leather jacket, he looked good behind the refreshment table. As said, Charlotte had no clue he couldn't dance. She knew he couldn't square dance but she chalked his lack of expertise in that arena to everyone's inability to square dance which stemmed from not knowing the steps (more about Collin's inadequacies as a dancer later.)

Bingley came in full regalia: very James Dean. His hair was slicked back and if he could've rolled up a cigarette pack into one of his sleeves he would have. Charlotte gave him high marks for getting into the spirit of the eve. In fact, everyone was dressed and seemed to enjoy "the hop." The Lindy was an easy dance to learn – a couple of turns around the room with Charlotte or with anyone who knew the steps and one could dance and thereby enjoy the music which was already rockin'. In fact the music, with its great beat, drew people on the floor. If women lacked partners they partnered with one another just because dancing to the music was fun.

Because of the music, when Darcy – who had come late because of another stint at the library – arrived, the floor was packed. Darcy had not come in costume but wore jeans which he had decided against rolling up – even after Bingley's urging. Darcy had worn a polo – not very 50's, and though he owned a biker type leather jacket – one Lizzy had seen him in on campus – he had worn his parka which whether he wanted it to or not let everyone know he wasn't in the spirit of the night. Especially because he stood on the fringes of the dance floor and with his typical stare seemed to be glaring at everyone.

Their bishop (a white haired man who wore reading glasses) and his wife (close to him in age) had come in costume and were dancing no less.

When the bishop saw that Darcy had arrived, but not in costume he stopped dancing, took his wife and both walked to the fringes to ask why. Darcy said, "I had no time to walk home and change." But really Darcy had not slicked his hair nor worn the right clothes because he believed doing so would make him look like a fool.

The bishop said, "Aw come on. At least cuff the bottoms of your jeans up. And whether you cuff them up or not – please dance."

Darcy said, "It pains me to dance."

The bishop, a physician, said, "Physically?"

Darcy said, "No. I simply don't care to."

"If you don't know the Lindy," said the bishop, "My wife and I can teach you. The steps are easy to learn."

Darcy tried not to look indignant as he said, "I know the steps." But Darcy often looked indignant as he did now.

At this moment Lizzy Bennet walked by so the bishop called, "Lizzy, help me tempt Greg onto the floor."

Since Lizzy had vowed not to dance with Darcy she said, "Not now. I have errands to run for Charlotte."

Darcy had recently vowed to be a better sport with the New Year. He planned to be more social when his block classes ended. But when the bishop had suggested he dance with Lizzy, Darcy, though it was only Halloween, was ready to put his New Year's resolution into force. The full skirt of her costume accentuated her narrow waist and the ballet flats looked classy. So he was disappointed when Lizzy refused. The bishop was too because Darcy was garnering a reputation for being aloof.

Annette helped the bishop out. Even though Darcy, in general, resisted the Netherfield's advances, he could not entirely do so – one Netherfield niece or the other, or both, now often tricked him into escorting them places or into sitting by them at church meetings. Annette said to Darcy, "Let's dance," and before he could refuse she grabbed his hands and pulled him onto the floor.

To the bishop's surprise, Darcy could Lindy. But after he'd danced with Annette then Jocelyn, so as to avoid further footwork – he left the floor after which he offered to help Collins who still stood sentry at the refreshment table.

Lizzy, like Bingley, was friends with everyone. So when she wasn't helping Charlotte with food or the music she did not lack for partners. This further intrigued Darcy. The dancing heightened the color in Lizzy's face – she looked so alive – and the excitement in the room or from the music or something made her eyes – though dark, glow like lanterns. He determined to walk her home and saw Collins as his key. So he stuck by him, which thrilled Collins. Collins would write Mrs. de Bourgh about her nephew as soon as Collins reached home.

When the dance ended, Annette and Jocelyn, who took their streamers down ultra fast, asked Darcy whether he and Bingley would walk them home. Bingley was at that moment helping Jane take their decorations down so Darcy said, "I doubt Bingley's ready," and as Darcy was about to add, "so you go on ahead," Collins – of all people – came to his aid.

"Greg," he said, "and Bingley have volunteered to clean up." Then turning to Darcy he added, "Look at the garbage we must haul out."

At the sight of the 7up bottles and Hawaiian punch cans Darcy almost smiled. Collins might be a fool, but he had found a way to rid him of Annette and Jocelyn. Neither wanted to touch the trash.

As the clean up proceeded, a young man not in their ward who saw Lizzy, slipped in to talk. The two knew one another, Darcy soon realized, from a class. At least the two talked about a class as if both belonged in it. The young man eventually offered to walk Lizzy home and did – once clean up, which the young man was now helping with, was finished. So instead of driving with Collins as Bingley did, Darcy walked home. Which in his mind was just as well – as he now further realized he was drawn to Lizzy, and didn't wish to be.

Chapter Seven

The Bennets youngest brother Jeff, now in his Freshman year at the Y, had always been a scholar. As one, he had taken it upon himself to learn all kinds of things. As a small child for instance he had learned the capitals of not just the states but of countries around the world. From his earliest years Jeff had studied maps, books and foreign languages. He had long been studying Russian, the study of which had begun when he had found a Russian language primer in his mother's books. The primer had been hers, she'd said, and was what she'd once used at something called Russian school. Held on Saturdays, Russian school taught Russian to children of Russian descent. Jeff had learned Russian so well on his own (obviously other books had been purchased beyond the primer) that he'd kleped out of basic Russian and in his first semester of his Freshman year was now enrolled in a block level third year Russian class. When an assignment for this class required that Jeff bring something for show and tell and speak in Russian about it Jeff asked that Lizzy be his object.

The McKay building, where Jeff's class was held, ran perpendicular to the Jesse Knight Building Annex which was where Lizzy's last class of the day was held. Timewise it directly preceded Jeff's Russian class. So, after getting the number of the room where the Russian class was held Lizzy planned to meet her brother outside of this class on the appointed day. When she arrived she saw her brother, who was early, waiting by the large window at the far end of the hall. The two said hi and then before they went in Jeff went over the fact that as his object Lizzy would stand by his side; that he would stand too; and that obviously both would stand facing the class. Her brother had a seat up front to the right of but near the lectern and as they came in Jeff pulled up an extra seat for Lizzy. Once the seats were arranged both sat down with their backs to the door. A low din built as students arrived. Jeff and Lizzy, involved in talk, did not bother to turn around as the rest of the class arrived. So Lizzy did not realize that Greg Darcy was in her brother's class and of course her brother didn't know Lizzy knew Greg. Consequently class began with Lizzy unaware. The professor said hi in Russian. Lizzy knew a few words: strasviche, hello, was one. But she rapidly became lost language wise.

Opposite to her experience, Greg Darcy had noticed Lizzy when he walked in. He recognized the back of her head – that light blonde hair that looked natural in color and her red parka, which was hanging now on the back of her chair. He was intrigued – why was she here? He wished he could see her eyes but she did not turn to face the class, and thereby him, until she stood near the lectern with her brother who introduced her as his show and tell. Jeff, in Russian said, "Eta moya cestra, Liz." Liz understood this to be: this is my sister Liz. But could understand none of the rest of what her brother said. She did understand though that what he subsequently said was funny because people in the class began to laugh. Laughter is infectious and because it is Lizzy, though she did not laugh, began to smile a great deal, which made the class laugh even harder. When her brother finished the two sat and listened to the other's presentations – none of which were as funny as Jeff's. In fact, none were funny. Greg Darcy, for instance, had brought an icon about which he seemed to talk intelligently.

On the way out through the desks, Lizzy, who was in conversation with her brother, nodded to Greg. Once out of the class and the building that housed it Lizzy and her brother went their separate ways. Her brother had another class and she was heading home. Greg Darcy ran to catch her. Once he had, he asked her destination. When she said, "Home," he offered to walk her there.

No sooner had he offered than the Netherfield's nieces appeared on the sidewalk before them. The two claimed Darcy at once. And whether he had, as both now claimed, promised to escort them to an on campus lecture starting in ten minutes, or had not – Lizzy did not care. Darcy suggested she come along which suggested to Lizzy the truth of his promise to the Netherfield's nieces. Darcy probably had committed to accompany them and, thought Lizzy, it would not be beneath the capabilities of the Netherfield's nieces to trap even someone as determined not be as Darcy. Darcy seemed to Lizzy like many a BYU male: determined at present not to marry nor even to express any interest in a woman, so that he, for whatever his reason, could stay free of even the entanglement of dating. Though she could see he felt trapped, and by a host of Netherfield women, she laughingly declined. "Such a lecture sounds too high brow for me. Besides, the sidewalks only admit three abreast so my coming would break up your threesome." Her refusal made her seem more elusive and therefore more desirable. Plus, since he knew what her brother had said about her as his object of show and tell, he wondered whether she had. (She had not.)

Naturally, the next time Lizzy spoke to her brother she asked, "What did you say that made the students in your class laugh?"

Jeff said, "I said, 'this is my sister Liz who is here at the Y to find a mate. But everything's gone wrong. She never dates. This is her Junior year and since she now fears she will leave BYU an old maid, she constantly cries, 'God have mercy on me, God have mercy on me, God have mercy.'"

Darcy asked the same when he saw her next at church. "Did you know what your brother said?"

She answered, "At the time I only knew 'this is my sister, Liz,' but now know the rest. No wonder everyone laughed. Fine dramatic irony – with me in the dark." She said the preceding laughingly which made Darcy think she was good natured or at least a good sport. But to test his theory he said,

"Aren't you at all perturbed with your brother for so abusing you?"

"When," she said, "I was a child and had learned to knit I used to knit with ferocity. It does require concentration. Unbeknownst to me Jeff, my brother in your Russian class, had slunk down by my ball, undone the yarn and tied it tightly to the back leg of the armchair in which I sat. Once I had knitted the slack and the yarn would no longer come, thinking there was a knot it the ball, I expressed annoyance. Anger actually. Jeff pointed to the yarn he had tied to the chair with such glee that I looked a fool. So now I try never to approach anything inconsequential with ferocity."

She had a playful, laughing nature – the opposite of his. So perhaps to justify his own, Darcy said, "To be constantly playful cannot serve you well."

To this Lizzy answered, "I hope I give matters of consequence their due."

When he said, "Name a matter of consequence," she, because she wished to leave off talking – at least to him – said,

"Like Cordelia, sir, I cannot heap my heart onto my tongue," and with that they parted: she into Relief Society and he into the classroom which housed priesthood meeting.

Yet again her elusive manner intrigued him.

When Darcy wanted something he knew how to get it and when it came to women they always expressed interest in him even while he tried to quell it. So he was determined to talk to Lizzy again and soon saw what he thought was the opportunity. The following Monday he spied her at a table in the library. He should have seen that she was busy. She sat alone in a quiet corner, the table before her full of books and periodicals – all open to various pages. She had a pile of paper before her, a pencil in hand. Lizzy was in the midst of writing a paper.

When Darcy was busy he let people know and perhaps if he hadn't so desired her company he might have admitted to himself that Lizzy was busy. But he was intrigued so he approached and broke her concentration with a whispered hello. When she looked up but said nothing other than hello back he stood for awhile until finally wanting to say something more asked, "What are you doing?"

She answered, "Writing a paper."

He asked, "For which class?"

Lizzy really had not time for Darcy nor any inclination to on any level converse with him so she said, "The information you seek is classified."

He repeated, "Classified? What do you mean?"

"That the paper and class for which I'm writing it are secret."

To flirt, which he was not good at, Darcy asked, "Are you a spy?"

"No." Lizzy said as bluntly as he might have. "I don't have time to explain because I don't have time. The paper is due tomorrow at 7 am, and I am only half-way through. And we can't check the periodicals out, so I've got to finish writing the paper, copy down the information for the footnotes and bibliography, proof read it, then go home and type it up. I have lots of work ahead."

Darcy fleetingly thought, I always get my papers done early. She procrastinates. And he might have thought ill of her for this reason except he knew from his landlord, Professor Netherfield's rave reviews that Lizzy Bennet was smart and that she wrote well. After those fleeting thoughts Darcy now got Lizzy's drift: she wished to be left on her own so he left but before he did he said, "I admire your interest in your studies, to which I'll leave you." He was actually thinking, I admire your eyes but said, "Interest in your studies" instead which made him sound to Lizzy anyway, all the more staid.

Later that evening Darcy thought of calling – he could get Lizzy's number from Bingley because it was Jane's – but Thanksgiving was upon them. On Wednesday night – just two nights from now – he would go with Bingley and Bingley's sister Caroline to Bingley and Caroline's parents' home in Salt Lake City where because Darcy's own parents were out of the country he would spend all of Thanksgiving weekend. With that in mind he decided it would make better sense to wait and ask Lizzy out after Thanksgiving. Bingley had already taken Jane out several times so perhaps Darcy could speak with Bingley and the two could arrange a double date with the Bennet sisters. Then Darcy, who knew himself to be taciturn, wouldn't have to think of what to say.

Chapter Eight

Mr. Bennet lived in Salt Lake City and had since he divorced Jane, Lizzy, Jeff and their sister Lydia's mother. Prior to that he had lived with the family in Las Vegas. Six months after moving to Salt Lake Mr. Bennet had met and married Mrs. Bennet # 2 who had been widowed the year before. Jane more than tolerated their new stepmother but Jane more than tolerated everyone. Lizzy found her calculating. Plus, Mrs. Bennet 2 talked loudly and prided herself on the fact that she was the Mormon wife Mr. Bennet ought to originally have married. Lizzy found Mrs. Bennet 2's belief that she and her father were meant for each other ludicrous.

When the Bennet children from BYU (Jane, Lizzy and Jeff) arrived Mrs. Bennet 2 opened the door before calling out, "Look who's here. Jane, Lizzy, and Jeff. I can hardly believe my eyes. I think I'm about to cry." Lizzy thought, if you were so thrilled with our coming why not pick us up from the bus station? Instead, the three had, after taking the Greyhound from Provo, walked with their bags to catch the city bus then walked from the bus stop to Mrs. B2's house. But Lizzy, along with her siblings said nothing which did a better job of quelling their stepmother's overreaching than criticizing her ever could have. They were hardly in the door when Mrs. B2 said, "Tonight is our ward party. Will you wear that?" The three, who'd done a fair amount of walking in cold weather, were wearing their parkas over jeans, sweaters, and t-shirts.

"No," said Lizzy. "We'll change into dresses and Jeff into slacks."

"Well, time is short." Which was just more proof of their stepmother's calculating nature – or rather her passion to rule. It was not yet 4pm; their father was not yet home; ward parties never started till about 7, especially when, like tonight, the party was not a dinner but simply a party.

This time Jane spoke, 'Yes, we'll have to hurry. Where can we change?"

"Of course, I've made up your usual rooms."

When she wasn't around, Lizzy called Mrs. B2 cruel stepmother which fit with the bedrooms she had given them. Of course it was her home and what was called a four-corner which meant it had four furnished bedrooms upstairs. But their father and his new wife devoted none of those rooms to his children. Their reason, or rather Mrs. B2's reason, was that as an older home the house contained only one bath upstairs so as she said, "It's more comfortable for you if you sleep in the basement (which was where the other bathroom was located) so you have a bath of your own."

The basement was not partitioned and the three beds the Bennet children slept in – two for the three girls, one for Jeff, were lumpy and had been purchased "just for them" (from an old Motel 6). When they reached the containment area they could see that Lydia, Jeff's twin, had arrived before them and that she had claimed one bed for herself by strewing her stuff across it. This left Jane and Lizzy the other double bed.

To give you a little history about Lydia, she had not been serious enough about her studies to get into BYU, and so instead of joining Jeff and her sisters at the Y this past fall she had instead enrolled at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. She lived with their mother nearby.

For some reason – Lizzy thought it was because they both shared the same loudish behavior and selfish nature – Mrs. B2 favored Lydia and gave her compliments plus unlimited freedom, something their own mother thought unwise, and Lizzy and Jane agreed with their mother. Their mother had a way of quelling Lydia's foolish nature or at least of keeping it in check.

The ward party had a fish pond for the children, something which Elizabeth had not seen in years. When her stepmother, who was Primary president, asked that Lizzy along with Jane man it, because she had such fond memories of fish ponds Lizzy readily agree, but would have without the fond memories. Lizzy was always happy to do her share. Lizzy took the spot behind the white sheet and Jane stood in front to help the small children cast their lines over the sheet, wait for Lizzy to affix a prize, then tug on the line to signify a bite. Jane would then help the child land the "fish" by pulling it up and over the sheet after which she would help the child unhook the prize. For the girls there were miniature plastic dolls in wrappers, or plastic jewelry in the same. And for the little boys, balsa airplanes, balls or toy trucks. The game was a fundraiser. The children, whose parents had bought tickets, in turn gave those tickets for chances to fish. Some children returned again and again.

While they manned this booth Jane and Lizzy met a young man named George Wickham. Wickham came to introduce himself during a break – the children were now lining up elsewhere for ice cream. During this break Lizzy, who had peeped her head out from behind the sheet, and Jane who, again, was in front, learned that Wickham attended BYU too. They also learned that he was from Southern California, that this was his last year at BYU's law school and that he intended to, that coming summer, clerk for a District Court Judge in Las Vegas.

Here is how Wickham came to introduce himself: when the maiden aunt with whom Wickham was spending Thanksgiving break learned from Mrs. B2 that the Bennet children were from Las Vegas she told Wickham, and also suggested that he introduce himself. And when Jane Bennet was pointed out to him Wickham followed his aunt's advice. This was because Jane Bennet was pretty, as were, as Wickham later learned, Jane's sisters.

Wickham, by far, was the handsomest man in the hall. And he had a smooth way with women. Not overly smooth as in oily. He just knew how to talk and knew what to say to strike up pleasant conversation and make the people around him feel comfortable – probably because he was free with information, very open. So, in no time, Jane and Lizzy knew where he lived in Provo and they knew some of what he felt. He was not opinionated, which they found pleasant, so when he had suggested they get together later in the long weekend, both were pleased. Jane, Lizzy and Wickham were in the midst of talking about a trip to Temple Square to see the Christmas lights that would be turned on for the first time the evening following Thanksgiving Day when Lydia bounced up. "Ugh." she said. "You two are stuck here. Doree," (their stepmom), "tried to stick me here, but I balked."

When Wickham mentioned Temple Squre Lydia said, "Perhaps a movie. But Temple Square?"

As Lydia said "Square," Lizzy, who, again, had peeked around the sheet so that she could talk to Wickham and Jane, noticed Greg Darcy, Jim Bingley, and a young woman come in. So she asked,

"Do you think Jim Bingley is in this ward?" When Wickham saw the three: Darcy, Bingley and the young woman, approach, he slipped off with Lydia in tow. Once Darcy, Bingley and the young woman reached the fish pond, Bingley introduced the young woman as his sister. She was sophisticated and self satisfied enough to seem pretentious and smug – at least to Lizzy. Her name was Caroline and as Lizzy later said, "She held her head up a little too high then looked down as she surveyed our clothes and footwear. Thank heaven our purses, such old things, were out of sight."

Unlike his sister, Bingley was full of joy at finding such a treat. "Imagine seeing you here. What a happy coincidence." His sister, however, looked off – bored. Darcy did too – looked off – but not in boredom. He had a disdainful look and Lizzy noticed that it was directed at Wickham, and Lizzy supposed, at Lizzy's sister Lydia, who was still with Wickham. Elizabeth suspected that the look arose from Darcy's sense of superiority and soon thereafter, when Darcy walked off with Bingley's sister, Lizzy felt the two were well matched: both were expensively dressed and probably only good enough for each other. Bingley, on the other hand, mingled with ward members everywhere and infused each circle he stopped at with good cheer.

When the fish pond closed down Lizzy, who couldn't find her lipstick in her purse, went to see if it had fallen out in her dad's car. It had. She found it on the back seat. On her way back in to the chapel she ran into Darcy who was outside because he had offered to retrieve Mrs. Bingley's reading glasses from the dash of the Bingley's car. Mrs. Bingley needed said glasses to play a piece on the piano in the upcoming program. When Darcy, after looking at her, said, "Do you suppose it will snow?" Lizzy answered,

"Maybe. The clouds are seamless, low and full, and the air has that warmth that precedes snow. Though tomorrow sun is forecast. Too bad. I like snow. I guess because we don't have it in Las Vegas."

"Nor," said Darcy, "in my home in Santa Monica."

After a pause Darcy added, "How kind of you to man the fishpond. And almost the whole night."

Lizzie said, "Only because I have fond memories of them. As a child I 'caught' a tiny plastic doll with moveable arms and legs."

"Have you kept it?"

"No. When the rubber bands that moved the arms and legs disintegrated and the limbs fell off my mother threw it away."

Darcy now tried to think of more to say as they walked back in, but was speechless. So both returned in silence then went separate ways.

To commemorate Thanksgiving, a group of teenagers in the ward eventually sang, "Come ye thankful people come/Raise the song of harvest home." Mrs. Bingley – her glasses now on – accompanied them on the piano.

With the party about to end Bingley returned to the Bennet sisters to take his leave. Darcy, however, remained at a distance with Caroline. And only when Bingley offered to help fold and put the tables and chairs away did Darcy leave Caroline to help his friend. Darcy did his duty stone faced, but Bingley did so like he visited with one and all – with good cheer.

This made Jane say to Lizzy when they had returned to their father's home, "Bingley's perfect."

"And Wickham resembles Bingley," said Lizzy. "He's not overly familiar yet has a way of making people feel as if he has known them forever. Bingley and Wickham are quite opposite to Greg Darcy."

At about that same time Caroline Bingley said to her brother and to his friend Greg Darcy, "The two eldest Bennet sisters were not well dressed. Their dresses are homemade and Jane's shoes and Lizzy's boots are worn. Both tried to cover the scuffs on the toes with polish but I can spot such tricks." Money was tight in the Bennet family and the sisters spent most of the money they made at summer jobs on books, housing, food, and tuition.

In response to his sister Bingley said, "Both girls are pretty and looked finely dressed to me – especially for working a fish pond."

"Darcy," said Bingley's sister, "Surely, with your powers of discrimination you saw at least Lizzy's boots, to which she had probably applied a can of polish apiece?"

Darcy said, "I noticed her legs, which were shapely and noticed again that her eyes are fine," which silenced Caroline Bingley. But Darcy, now not wanting to seem interested in Lizzy Bennet, added, "Though as I've said before, compared to her sister – she's only tolerable."

Chapter Nine

Thanksgiving dinner in 1973 would mark the second time the Bennet children had eaten a holiday dinner with their father's new wife. This dinner, like other dinners Mrs. B2 made, was made from canned or boxed goods. The potatoes were instant, the gravy came from a packet, the peas were canned, the turkey was a processed "breast," the rolls were not even brown and serve, and the pie frozen.

Lizzy found it remarkable that her stepmother – who again, prided herself on being a traditional wife, cooked less than her mother who prided herself on a career.

Lizzy could not understand her father. He worked hard, had multiple degrees and yet he had chosen for his second wife a woman who had not bothered with college nor a career. And she had not bothered with either despite the fact that her first marriage was childless which meant to Lizzy that Mrs. B2 had had the time.

Lizzy also found it funny that their stepmother's claim to fame was cleaning. "How can cleaning," Lizzy said to Jane, "be a hobby?" Lizzy had a sneaking suspicion that the Bennet children were consigned to the basement to keep them from gumming up the rest of their stepmother's house.

On Thanksgiving day she did let them set the table. Her china was pretty. All the pieces had pink flowers with green leaves on an ivory background. And she had real sterling. Plus, her stepmother had carefully placed objects which she had collected, Lizzy supposed, over the years. Perhaps her stepmother lavished attention on objects and cleaning them because she had no children. And now, Lizzy additionally thought, she lavishes attention and sometimes money on Lydia.

During Thanksgiving dinner Mrs. B2 said, "I do think Wickham is handsome and personable, a perfect match for Lydia. And Bingley's handsome too, and worthy of Jane and her beauty. But Greg Darcy!" Mrs. B2 said, "I never saw him say a word, nor look anything but proud."

Jane said, "I saw Darcy speak, and to persons other than his friends." But Mrs. B2 continued to talk about Darcy in negative terms, after which she again said that Wickham and Bingley would make excellent partners for Lydia and Jane. But that Darcy would do for no one.

"Jane and Lydia," Mr. Bennet said, "are to have husbands. But not Lizzy?"

After appraising Lizzy Mrs. B2 said, "Lizzy is not half so pretty as Jane, and does not have Lydia's good humor. Yet you prefer her. Why?" Lizzy could not believe her stepmother had said what she had. But appreciated her father's answer.

"Because," her father said, "Lizzy's quick witted, and Jeff too."

Mrs. B2 did not care for Lizzy's arch manner and suspected that Lizzy, who could see through others, could most likely see through Mrs. B2. And because of this she made Mrs. B2 uncomfortable.

Early Friday morning Bingley called (on the telephone) and on his behalf and Darcy's invited Jane and Lizzy to see the lights on Temple Square. Lizzy had secretly hoped that Wickham would ask but had learned that, two evenings before, when the Bennett's came home from the ward party, Wickham had asked Lydia to the movies. Which was no surprise. Lydia was not as pretty as Jane but lots sexier because she was forward and dressed – and sometimes talked – in a provocative manner.

By late afternoon snow began to fall so out of courtesy Bingley called a second time asking, "Are we still on?"

Jane, after consulting with Lizzy, said, "We'll brave it." Jane sat with Bingley in front and Lizzy with Darcy in back. Bingley was well-mannered enough to cover for his taciturn friend with a stream of conversation. His questions and conversing, and the fact that the ride to the Temple was not long, kept everything pleasant. But once the couples were in the Square and walking by twos under single umbrellas Lizzy recognized that she would have to draw Darcy out. To do so she said, "Look at the way the lights follow the naked branches of the trees. To have their lines so delineated makes one realize how beautiful nature is – even in winter."

Darcy said, "Trees in silhouette are magnificent. As is snow falling softly." As they walked around the Temple Darcy said, "The first time I saw the Temple as a child I was struck by its gothic magnificence."

"Did you know it was gothic in style as a child?"

"No. Of course I did not. I picked the word up later when I was older and read about the Temple and its design and construction." Darcy then noticed a placard for a concert so after asking Elizabeth, who said she would like to attend, the two caught up with Jane and Bingley who agreed that the concert, which was free, sounded fun. It was billed as Christmas music so the four expected carols. So when they sat down to a small orchestra of strings playing classical music Bingley said,

"Are we where we should be? Or did we read the placard wrong?"

Lizzy, who too had expected carols but now recognized the music, said, "This is Christmas music of another day. Corelli," said Lizzy, "who was Bach's contemporary. This is his Christmas cantata."

"It's pretty," said Jane. "And restful."

After the cantata Bingley, an old Salt Lake hand, insisted they visit Snelgroves which was "an institution," he insisted.

"Institution," said Darcy, "Is a funny term for an ice cream parlor with a striped awning."

But as they got ice cream and sat at a booth to eat it Lizzy, Jane and Darcy were soon made to understand that families and young people out together often came to Snelgroves. "Sometimes," Bingley said, "my friends and I would stop here after school."

When he looked at the décor Darcy said, "An old-fashioned soda fountain."

Bingley said, "I guess. It has that look to it, doesn't it?"

When Bingley asked Jane if Las Vegas had such an institution Jane said, "No soda fountain nor ice cream parlor of which I can think."

Lizzy smiled as she said, "Think further, Jane. If you do, Macayo Vegas is something of an institution."

Jane quickly recognized the truth of what Lizzy said and admitted it.

Darcy asked, "What is Macayo Vegas?"

"A restaurant," said Lizzy, "which serves Mexican food."

At midnight, when the owner closed shop, Bingley and Darcy drove Jane and Lizzy home after which they went back to Bingley's. Caroline Bingley who had been unaware of her brother's plans was jealous once she discovered that neither her brother nor Darcy had sought to include her in their evening. Caroline, who had spent almost every minute following Thanksgiving Day shopping with friends had not been around enough to be aware of the Temple Square plans. After hearing her brother and Darcy talk, she thought she ought to do something to thwart their interest in the Bennet sisters. But what?

Chapter Ten

Tom Collins was destined to speed his marriage up most likely for two reasons. One: if Charlotte had time to think she might recant and two: his commission began with the new year and he was determined not to disappoint his patroness the General's lady, Catherine de Bourgh. Collins would not come empty-handed but would have a bride in tow.

Neither the General nor his wife would be able to attend but on their behalf Mrs. de Bourgh sent "felicitations." When Charlotte showed Lizzy the note, although she didn't say anything to Charlotte, Lizzy found the word "felicitations" pretentious. Who, today, uses such a word, she wondered? But again, she said nothing, a practice with which when it came to Collins and what Lizzy had now decided amounted to his outright silliness, Lizzy was quite accustomed. She hoped Charlotte would change her mind. But Charlotte was twenty-seven and finishing up a master's degree and may well have felt Collins was her last chance, and one if not taken which would consign her to spinsterdom. Lizzy thought it would be better to be an old maid than marry Collins, but again, she largely kept these notions to herself. Although she occassionaly expressed them to Jane. The last time she had done so Jane had said, "When we first met, Charlotte told me, 'No one's proposed or hardly asked me out.' So don't you suppose she is right in thinking Collins her only chance?"

"Chance for what?"

"To marry and have children."

"I suppose," said Lizzy who, though their mother was a career woman, was schooled in the notion that a woman's highest aim was marriage and family.

And whether Lizzy gave her approval or not Charlotte moved toward her fate. She had largely grown up in Salt Lake City, but right about the time she had graduated from high school there her father had taken a job as a plant manager in one of Westinghouse's plants in Pennsylvania – a place where few Mormons lived. This was perhaps another reason Charlotte planned to marry. When she graduated what would she go home to: a place where marriage prospects – at least if she wanted to marry a Mormon – were fewer?

Because most of their family and friends were back in Salt Lake or near enough to Salt Lake to travel there, Charlotte planned to marry in the Salt Lake Temple and as to a reception: one of her aunts – the one that lived in the ward her parents had lived in, which was Bingley's parents' ward – scheduled the cultural hall. The wedding would take place the afternoon of Charlotte's last final with the reception that very evening. After a night in a hotel the two would take off in Collin's car, a Chevy, to drive cross country to Fort- and their new home.

Mrs. de Bourgh had planned a reception for them when they arrived, one to which Collins and Charlotte hoped some friends or family would attend. But as to friends, since Mrs. de Bourgh's reception was scheduled for January 5th, when Jane and Lizzy would be back in school, neither would be able to acquiesce. "When we receive the invitation," Lizzy said, "should we send regrets plus FELICITATIONS."

"We'd better," said Jane, "not. I doubt the wife of a general is a stupid woman so we mustn't tempt Charlotte's fate by mocking someone Charlotte will have to answer to."

Jane and Lizzy did plan to attend the reception in Salt Lake City after which they would begin their own cross country trek. But more about their trek later.

Charlotte's parents and her siblings who were not at BYU, and some of the members of their small ward in Pittsburgh would attend Mrs. de Bourgh's reception because Fort- was only a six hour drive from Pittsburgh.

Lizzy later said to Jane, "I suppose the marriage is not without merit. Charlotte will have a spouse and be close to family. And perhaps some of Charlotte's sense and savvy with fashion will rub off. If only she can weed that cravat out of Collin's wardrobe. What a plus."

When Collins wrote Mrs. de Bourgh about Darcy her nephew and the fact that Collins and Darcy lived in the same student ward Mrs. de Bourgh invited Darcy to the Fort- reception. Darcy declined but reminded his aunt he would see her sometime in the new year. Darcy was spending Christmas with Bingley and as his guest would attend Collins and Charlotte's reception in Salt Lake City. In fact, many members of their student ward planned to attend.

He had also been invited to a Christmas reception at his landlords'. It was largely for Dr. Netherfield's students but as his nieces had been invited and as his nieces still hoped to snare Bingley and Darcy both Bingley and Darcy had been invited to Dr. Netherfield's "in home" evening event, which was to be held in early December – before the crush of finals and research paper due dates came on.

Lizzy, as one of Dr. Netherfield's students, had been invited, and Jane who was not had not. As soon as Bingley saw Lizzy he asked about Jane and continued to talk and ask about her. Lizzy's answers were so non committal – after all, she loved Jane, but Jane was not there so why talk about her? – that Darcy, who was listening in, began to wonder whether Jane had real affection for Bingley. So at that moment he decided to watch when Bingley and Jane were together to ascertain for himself. Bingley would like to have talked about Jane all night, but the Netherfield's had other plans especially because the stars of the evening were Netherfield's students, not Bingley and Jane.

To start the formal part of the evening off Netherfield had put together something along the lines of academy awards. He awarded one of his students, for instance: _best excuse for missing class_. "His grandma," Dr. Netherfield explained, "died…again." Everyone laughed, even repeat offenders who had heard the same joke but applied to a different student during a previous term. The next award: _best excuse for turning a paper in late _– went to a young man who claimed his dog had eaten it. "This," said Dr. Netherfield, "when BYU housing forbids pets." A third: _the future attorney award_ – went to a young man who kept class discussions alive by nonstop talking. Dr. Netherfield had arranged the awards before hand with the young men. All knew what was coming and had good-naturedly agreed to the minor lampoons.

The students next sang carols. Dr. Netherfield's niece Annette, who could play well, accompanied them on the piano in the Netherfield living room.

Later, food was served: mulled cider, dessert squares, and Mrs. Netherfield's Christmas pudding which when Darcy tasted it said, "It reminds me of fruitcake."

When Lizzy heard "fruitcake" she added, "Something I love," and turned to get some.

Darcy, following her, said, "You must be the only person in America who likes the stuff."

"No," said Lizzy, "my mother likes it too."

"That," said Darcy, "is frightening." Lizzy was so perturbed at Darcy and his critical nature – which now extended to fruitcake – that she said, "Boo. Does that frighten you too?"

When she said "boo" her eyes widened which made them even more attractive and soulful. And she appeared more soulful still when she recited a poem of her own composition. Before hand Dr. Netherfield had invited those with talent to display it. "Do you write verse or song? If so bring it along." This is what the couplet in the invitation had said. One young man had written a song called "You're the Heart of Christmas." The melody matched the simplicity of the words which made both charming. And an instrumental piece for the piano which a female classmate of Lizzy's had composed (titled: "Not Poe's Bells") sounded so much like happy sleigh bells jingling that Lizzy found it charming too. When her turn came Lizzy recited the poem which she had lately written that went like so:

Merry Christmas, Little Savior dear

And with your birth did Mary start a

Record of your years?

Did she keep a baby book of

All your many days?

And record your milestones and

Funny baby ways?

Did she mark the hour you first turned to hear a sound

And the month you learned to

Crawl upon the ground?

Did she write your first steps as

You toddled into view?

And then at last did she

Record your last steps too?

"A fitting end to our evening," said Dr. Netherfield, "since it is the season of His birth."

Annette argued, "Yes. His birth. Not His death." As he would the remarks of the more rabid of his students, Dr. Netherfield ignored his niece's.

Darcy asked to walk Lizzy home. He did so out of Bingley's earshot because he knew if Bingley'd heard he'd – in the hopes of seeing Jane at the young ladies' apartment – want to walk Lizzy home too. Luckily the Netherfield nieces had employed Bingley to help them clean up. Darcy, knowing that the nieces would want to employ him in such or a similar scheme, had avoided their company.

Since Lizzy had had to walk to the party alone she accepted. The two, while Bingley was busy at the back of the house, snuck out through the front door. For awhile they walked in silence until Darcy said, "English? What will you do with English as a major?"

"Teach. I have a position waiting at my mother's school."

"Will you student teach this coming semester?"

"No. I took my education classes early so I could student teach last spring. That way I can spend my final semesters here on campus rather than shuttling between Provo and Pleasant Grove."  
"Which is where you…"

"Student taught."

"Why not law? You seem bright and English is a natural lead in?"

"My family doesn't have the money for further schooling for me. All in all, it's best I go home, teach and help my mother keep my sister Lydia in check."

Darcy admitted he had a baby sister named Georgiana.

"What a regal name," Lizzy said.

"Yes. And at some point when she is older it will fit. But at present she resents it and wants a modern sounding name."

"She could shorten it to 'Georgie.'"

"And has. Much to my aunt Catherine de Bourgh's irritation."

"Why?"

"General de Bourgh's first name is George, and my parents named Georgiana after him, and my Aunt Catherine doesn't think he likes the diminutive."

"Are you certain he doesn't?" asked Lizzy. When Darcy didn't answer she asked, "Are you and your aunt and uncle close?"

"Yes. And not only for my parents' sake. Both de Bourgh's are more than willing to open their house to me during vacations. And to help my sister and me out, which we sometimes need with our parents out of the country. They advanced me the money for tuition while I waited for it from my parents."

This made Lizzy think of Christmas break and wonder whether Darcy would spend it at Fort-. "No," Darcy said. "I'm spending Christmas at the Bingley's. And you?"

"My sister Lydia," Lizzy said, "has been corresponding with a young man she met – in fact at Bingley's home ward. A George Wickham. Wickham's in law school at BYU and this summer will clerk with a judge in Las Vegas."

Darcy said, "I know George Wickham."

When Lizzy asked for particulars Darcy said, "I'd rather not say how." Typically cryptic of Darcy. And Lizzy thought so ill of Darcy that she decided that to be out of favor with Darcy – as Wickham seemed to be – would be a mark of esteem. She planned the next time she saw Wickham, which would be in Salt Lake City as they took off in his Volkswagen for their trek east (more about that later) to ask him for his opinion of Darcy.

Much of what Darcy was saying humanized him and if Lizzy had not been prejudiced she would have realized this. But most of his ways and the fact that he had used "tolerable" in reference to her had ruined her opinion to the point that she tolerated him – nothing more.

When Lizzy and Darcy arrived at Lizzy's apartment, Jane was being dropped off by a young man. She seemed to look at him with fondness which made Darcy again wonder whether or not Jane cared for his friend Bingley, which he further planned to ascertain.

Chapter Eleven

Darcy was proud and as such assumed any woman in whom he expressed an interest would reciprocate. For this reason, when Bingley suggested they take the Bennet sisters to Salt Lake City to see _The Nutcracker_ Darcy believed Lizzy would be delighted. She did say yes. But to her sister complained. Her exact words were, "Why would someone who finds me nothing more than tolerable invite me out? Perplexing." She had said yes because she didn't want to ruin her sister's chances with Bingley. And she could well see that her sister preferred Bingley to the other men she dated. When she mentioned this to Charlotte, Charlotte said,

"Jane is so understated that perhaps Bingley and others cannot see and only to you is it obvious."

Whether it was obvious or not Lizzy could easily tell that Jane preferred Bingley especially when she gave impassioned (impassioned for Jane) speeches like, "Jim Bingley is everything a man ought to be: affable, sensible, good humored, never ill-at-ease, not to mention he's kind, thoughtful and considerate." With this appraisal of Bingley's character, Lizzy could not argue. Nor did she want to. She just did not want to spend time with Bingley's friend because Darcy was nothing like Bingley. In fact, in many ways he was the opposite. She especially did not like how ill-at-ease and ill humored he seemed: as if he did not have time for the rank and file of which she thought he felt she was part. Lizzy did have to admit that Darcy was sensible and in that respect not a bit like Collins. Greg Darcy was not a man one could ridicule.

On the evening of the date Lizzy found it funny that Bingley and Darcy had borrowed Tom Collin's Chevy. When she and her sister got into the car, even though it was a wreck, Lizzy said, "Charlotte's future chariot." As the four drove to Salt Lake City in Charlotte's future chariot, to make conversation, Lizzy asked Darcy and Bingley why neither had a car.

"Darcy," Bingley said, "had one our Freshman year."

"But when I went on my mission," Darcy interrupted, "it descended to my sister and has yet to be repossessed." His reason for letting his sister, who lived in southern California, continue to use it was easy enough, "When I had a car," Darcy added, "too many people – like we're doing to Collins – borrowed it."

"This way," Bingley said, "No one speaks to Darcy, which Darcy likes."

_The Nutcracker_ was showing in the Capitol Theater which was located on Broadway in the heart of downtown. Lizzy liked Salt Lake City – especially downtown which unlike Las Vegas was full of old-fashioned buildings. Downtown Las Vegas did have its charms. At night for instance Glitter Gulch looked spectacular and cruising it on the weekends was fun. But Vegas definitely did not have anything close to an old world feel – the kind of feel that fit well with _The Nutcracker_.

Everyone had dressed up. Bingley and Darcy had worn raincoats over their suits. But Bingley had topped his with something less dressy, his signature ski cap: a navy blue knit noted for a bright red cross on its front. Everyone checked his coat – and Bingley his cap too – inside the front door where the men put theirs and the ladies' tickets in the inside pockets of their suits.

Lizzy and Jane had new shoes. Lizzy's new shoes, which were kitten heels, immediately redrew Darcy's attention to her ankles etc. and he spent some time before the lights went down looking from his program to her ankles to her eyes and back and forth again. But not in a noticeable way. Lizzy and Jane's mother, who believed in the old adage, best is cheapest, insisted both buy clothes of good quality. So the dresses the girls wore, though bought three years before, had held up and were, because they were of good quality, every bit as nice as anything Caroline Bingley wore.

Close to the start of the show Darcy said, "_The Nutcracker_ descends from a tale by Hoffman. However, the original was darker. Alexandre Dumas lightened it when he appropriated it and Tchaikovsky made it still more charming."

Jane said, "I'm impressed with the breadth of your knowledge. You're a Renaissance man."

Darcy answered, "My information is recently gleaned from the back of the program."

The sisters turned their programs over to see almost word for word what Darcy had just uttered.

Jane said, "Well might I compliment you on how quickly you read?"

Before he could answer her sister said, "Darcy most likely hates compliments. No doubt he finds them insincere." This made Darcy think that Lizzy did not have a very high opinion of him. But because the overture had sounded Darcy did not defend himself.

Neither did Bingley defend Darcy. Instead, he leaned right out and over, and overture or not, said, "You're right, Lizzy. To Darcy compliments are suspect."

Darcy, who didn't care much for ballet, stole glances at Lizzy as she watched the ballet. He had also predetermined he would watch Jane to see whether she cared about Bingley. So, at times, he would sit overly far back in his seat so he could look behind Lizzy's back and across at her sister. Jane and Lizzy were seated next to each other. Darcy sat on the left side of Lizzy and Bingley to the right of Jane. Lizzy caught Darcy several times looking at Jane and this made her wonder if he too admired her along with his friend Bingley. She hoped not. Jane however did not notice Darcy's glances, nor did she look at Bingley. Her reason: she truly loved ballet. Jane had taken ballet lessons since a child and was taking ballet at BYU, which is why when Bingley learned of her love for it he had asked, been accepted and purchased tickets. Her not looking at him would not have bothered Bingley because he knew of her love of ballet. But Darcy took it as a sign of disinterest. In fact Darcy compared Jane to her sister. Lizzy, he thought, as I've discovered, has little regard for me. Even so, Lizzy looks my way from time to time. But not so Jane with Bingley. And when Darcy remembered the way Jane had looked at the young man who had brought her home from a date – if you recall Darcy had seen the preceding when he walked Lizzy home from Dr. Netherfield's party – Darcy decided Jane did not care for Bingley. But that Bingley, if not in love, was en route. Incidentally, Lizzy's disinterest, as if often does, further piqued the opposite in Darcy.

During the intermission Bingley asked the sisters' plans for Christmas break. "We'll," Jane said, "stay in Salt Lake until the day after Charlotte and Tom Collins' reception after which we'll drive to Akron, Ohio." When Bingley wondered why Jane said, "My mother is flying and meeting us there which is where her mother and siblings live." When Bingley wondered how they would travel, Jane said "In a young man named George Wickham's Volkswagen."

"A Volkswagen Van."

Jane said, "No. Bug."

Jane further explained that Lydia, their sister who lived at home while she attended UNLV, had been corresponding with Wickham and that the two had concocted the plan into which they then talked Jane, Lizzy, Jeff and their mother.

"So five adults in a bug," said Bingley. "You will be crowded. What connection does Wickham have to Ohio?"

Jane explained that Wickham also had family in Akron, another aunt – the older sister of the aunt with whom Wickham stayed while in Salt Lake City. "We're chipping in for gas," Lizzy said. "Fifteen dollars apiece and driving straight through. No stops for food. We have been instructed to bring what we can make and eat in the car. If we do so Wickham says we'll be in Akron in 36 hours.

George Wickham's name had been mentioned several times and with each mention Darcy's face increased in redness. Not the bright red of a blush, but the darker tone that is connected to anger. This made Lizzy recall the disdainful look Darcy had given Wickham at the Salt Lake City ward party and since Wickham was an open young man she decided to ask Wickham if he and Darcy had some previous connection. Darcy was too guarded to ask but Lizzy felt that if there were some connection Wickham, with his personality being what it was, would be forthright.

She did not have to wait, as a letter of warning from Lydia was waiting for Jane and Lizzy when they came home. In the letter Lydia explained that poor Wickham was parentless, that Darcy's parents had promised to help Wickham on a mission and with college when Wickham's parents had died, but that shortly after their deaths Darcy had kept them from doing so. Lizzie did not doubt that Darcy could orchestrate such doings and automatically attributed it to a meanness of spirit on Darcy's part. He was so disdainful of others that Lizzy imagined him capable of all kinds of lacks of kindness and of a general disregard for others.

But at this juncture in the evening – intermission had ended and the music of _The Nutcracker_ had once again struck up – the letter had not been read so Lizzy had no clue as to why Darcy was angry with Wickham. She did, though, think Darcy to blame. She felt he disapproved of her and of others. In fact, the only people Darcy seemed to openly accept were Bingley and the members of Bingley's family.

After the show – despite snow which was now falling – Bingley wanted to visit Snelgrove's again. Darcy, though, said, "Hadn't we best start back to Provo? What if point of the mountain closes, and we're stranded here?

Bingley said, "Stranded? We each have some place to stay if held overnight in Salt Lake City."

Darcy would not relent and used as his excuse the papers in Provo he had to write as well as the finals for which he had to study. Lizzy, who wanted to go home: time spent with Darcy was uncomfortable, agreed. "Yes. Finals are upon us."

Bingley relented but made Jane and Lizzy promise to come to dinner at his parent's house the night before Charlotte's reception. "Darcy will be there," said Bingley. Darcy was staying with Bingley over Christmas break. It was not exactly enticement for Lizzy but as the sisters and their dates walked to the car Lizzy and Jane accepted Bingley's invitation.

The already mentioned letter from Lydia awaited Lizzy and Jane in their apartment. With the holidays upon them the mail had come late that afternoon, too late for the sisters to have received it before both had left with Bingley and Darcy for Salt Lake City. After the sisters read the letter Lizzy took Wickham's side. "Wickham is open and friendly which makes me believe his account is true."

"Yes," said Jane, "But how could Darcy be so mean? To ruin the chances of a young man whose parents have died? And against wishes made to Wickham's parents with whom Darcy's parents were great friends? You know how Lydia can be? Perhaps she misunderstood, or is embellishing?"

Lizzy was inclined to believe the worst of Darcy and to find Wickham, a man more handsome than Darcy, faultless.

Jane held to her belief that a misunderstanding on Lydia's part had occurred. She held this belief in large part because Jane did not like to think ill of others. Neither sister gossiped – with their parents' divorce their family had been the object of too much gossip to find much sport in it. But Jane was also disinclined to believe Darcy the ruin of another's prospects because one, there seemed to be no reason for such action. At least, Lydia had stated none. And two, Darcy was Bingley's friend and Jane, because Bingley was all that he was, couldn't imagine Bingley friends with a scoundrel. The sisters went to sleep with slightly, to say the least, - different thoughts. Jane happily dropped off and if dreams are said to be a reflection of the dreamer's mindset, quickly began to dream of the dance of the sugar plum fairies, following which she found herself in Bingley's arms as the two danced the beautiful pas de deux from _The Nutcracker_. Lizzy went to sleep slightly jealous of Wickham's interest in Lydia. But she also thought about Jane's defense of Darcy. Could Jane be correct?

Darcy, as he fell to sleep, thought about what seemed to him Jane's lack of interest in Bingley – although in the car as they drove back to Provo she had looked devoted and had hung on Jim's every word. So perhaps Jane was interested in Jim Bingley. Largely, though, Darcy thought about Lizzy, about her large dark eyes, her intelligence, and her spirit. He especially thought about the spirited way she had spoke of Wickham. Darcy had to admit that Lizzy seemed to prefer Wickham and this made Darcy somewhat jealous. With the morning though and the week before finals upon them the Bennet sisters and Darcy and Bingley had little time to think of anything beyond school and the feelings of the previous evening were set aside for another time.

Chapter Twelve

As a break from studying for finals Lizzy went to Film Society. She liked Film Society. It was a fledgling group which met in a lecture room in a building the acronym of which was MARB. It was the same building in which Lizzy's student ward her freshman year had met. Her student ward this year met in a partitioned portion of the upstairs grand ballroom in the Wilkinson Center.

The Film Society had been started by two young men who liked art. And by going to its offerings Lizzy had begun to further develop her taste. She didn't like everything the society showed and sometimes disagreed with what the two young men had to say about the movies they showed. For instance, both deemed _Citizen Kane_ seminal. But seminal or not, Lizzy found the movie dull and its symbolism meaningless.

Lizzy arrived about fifteen minutes before the meeting was to begin and was sitting by herself when Darcy appeared. When she saw him come through the door, she turned away and hid her face with her hand. But Darcy, who had spotted her and didn't realize she was hiding from him, walked to the row she sat in and asked if he could sit in the seat beside her.

One of the two young men who ran the society, the one whose hair was as black as Darcy's, introduced the film to be shown that evening by first describing the awards it had won. He said, "_It Happened One Night_ is the only film to win all five major academy awards. Clark Gable won for best actor, Claudette Colbert for best actress, Frank Capra for best director, and the movie itself for best film, and the screenplay for best screenplay, which is amazing because the film is a comedy and comedies usually do not win." He then outlined the rudiments of the beginning part of the plot by saying, "Claudette Colbert plays an heiress who, against her father's wishes, wants to marry a fortune hunter. She escapes from what she thinks is her father's tyranny by boarding a Greyhound bus where Clark Gable, a newspaper reporter, recognizes her. I'll let you judge the rest." And with that the film began. Once it did, Darcy, who generally did not talk, began to. He said,

"Claudette Colbert is certainly no beauty."

Though Lizzy hated to talk during a movie, she whispered back, "Yes, she's only tolerable."

Darcy seemed incapable of hiding his feelings, so when he didn't respond to the word "tolerable" with any indication that he knew she had heard him use it to describe her she felt he did not know that she'd heard his remarks at the square dance.

Darcy now said, "Do you like comedies?"

Lizzy answered, "When I can hear enough to get the gist."

Darcy did not take her hint and moments later asked, "What do you think about black and white as opposed to color?"

Lizzy said, "Black and white is classic."

"Yes," Darcy said, "I agree." He paused for what Lizzy hoped was good. But then added, "Have you seen any silent films?"

She nodded yes after which he said, "What's your opinion of them?"

Before she could give it a student in the seat in front of Darcy turned around and said, "I wish you were a silent film."

Lizzy mouthed the words, "We better hush." And now that their eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see the words as she formed them he nodded in agreement.

During the intermission he asked if he could walk her home and since she'd come alone and it would be dark once they were out she agreed. He also asked if he could buy her something to eat. The Film Society sold candy, root beer and 7up to help pay costs. She said "sure," and when he asked what she preferred she answered, "A 7up and box of Junior Mints. Darcy got 7up and Milk Duds for himself. So before the second half of the film started the two, as they ate candy and slurped soda, discussed the respective merits of mints and caramels.

On the way home Darcy asked "What did you think of the movie?"

She answered, "It was a farce and worked, and when farce works it's pretty funny."

"True," said Darcy after which he fell silent, which meant Lizzy had to cast around for topics, which in her mind was too much work to make Darcy's company worth it. Even so, she did cast around for topics so that silence would not fall. "You must be," she said, "a pace with your studies to watch a film."

He nodded he was and when he said nothing further she asked about his classes for the following semester. He recited them then fell silent again. She fell back on the weather and after she'd commented on it and asked every question that came to mind save the one on her mind, they reached her apartment where they parted ways.

She posed the one question on her mind which was – "I wonder why Greg Darcy, who is generally silent, talks during movies?" – to Jane.

Jane said, "Darcy went to Film Society? Was Bingley there? I wish I'd gone."

"Of course Bingley wasn't there or he would have come in at least to say hi. Unlike Darcy, Bingley's friendly."

"True," Jane said, as she went back to her textbook and Lizzy resumed hers.

Darcy, though, had studied enough. By almost nonstop work Darcy had kept pace in his block classes and had gone to the Film Society only because he was now ready for his finals. Darcy always studied up to a point, generally up to a day or two before finals began and then let it go. This way Darcy was calm when he took tests. Unlike Lizzy, when Darcy went in to Film Society he had deemed further study unnecessary.

Chapter Thirteen

Mrs. Bingley, like her son Jim, was good natured and easy going. Mr. Bingley was the same – even when he had tried cases he was, and he now was as a judge. So when looking at his parents it was easy to see the source of Bingley's charm. He was an apple which had not fallen far from the tree, an apple more than willing to accept others. But Caroline Bingley was another matter. She was pretentious, a name dropper, and, in her family anyway, this made her the exception not the rule.

Darcy was not pretentious but he refused to be an object of ridicule. Nothing stems from one incident but a set of incidents which had occurred in Darcy's home ward had fueled something which made Darcy now seem haughty: It was the fact that he refused to be what he considered lured into marriage prior to the end of his education. Here is how Darcy had formed such a notion. At the end of high school when he had been accepted to Harvard and BYU and had chosen the latter friends – even parents of friends – mocked him by saying, "Darcy is going to BYU to find a bride."

Darcy hated to be misunderstood – though as tight-lipped as Darcy was this occurred often. But Darcy had chosen BYU on the advice of his father. His father had said, "Go to the Y. It's cheaper and where you get an undergraduate degree does not matter. Save Harvard for law. That's the thing."

So everyone saying, "Greg Darcy is going to BYU to find a bride," cemented Darcy's vow to wait to marry until he'd completed his education. He would leave BYU single and once he met Bingley had convinced him – or so he thought – to take a similar vow. So before Christmas break when Jim Bingley had hinted that he might buy a ring for Jane Bennet and surprise her with it Darcy was surprised. Fortunately Jim didn't have the money saved for a ring. But still, Darcy felt something must be done especially because Darcy wasn't convinced of Jane Bennet's ardor.

As Jane, Lizzy, Greg, Jim and Caroline sat at the Bingley's dining table the night before Charlotte's reception no one – not even Caroline – could criticize Jane Bennet's looks. Her beauty was plain, honest, and there for everyone to see. And as he looked at it Darcy thought of the Renaissance belief that physical beauty belonged to those whose souls were pure. Jane was a good-hearted girl. She wasn't crafty – nor did she connive. She did not – like Caroline – talk unkindly about others. Lizzy – though not as sweet – also did not talk unkindly about others. Although he felt she would talk plainly if need arose; whereas, Jane would be reluctant to state even the obvious, if the obvious were unkind.

Since she couldn't criticize Jane because of her looks, nor her shoes – Jane had worn the new pair – Caroline had decided to criticize Jane and Lizzy by referring to their parents' divorce. However, Caroline, like the cunning woman she was, had to time her remarks carefully. The chit chat around the table began in the common way – introductions, innocuous questions and so forth. So the moment had not yet arrived. Caroline knew if she asked personal questions or devious ones in front of her parents both would be chagrined because both were fair minded and the Bennet sisters were their guests. But Caroline's moment arose when the timer from the kitchen sounded. The glaze on the ham was now done and Mrs. Bingley wanted her husband's help in getting the ham out of the oven and sliced. (This had all been prearranged). As soon as the two exited through the door between the dining room and the butler's pantry Caroline said, "Is it true, Jane, that your parents are divorced?" When Jane, who by now was looking down at her plate – probably in embarrassment – nodded yes, Caroline asked, "Why?"

Lizzy stepped in. Her usual answer, "Top secret," almost always worked. It was playful, Darcy realized, and, funny. But Caroline, who was unusually mean and conniving and especially so tonight because she had noticed that Darcy never looked at anyone but Lizzy, and Caroline liked Darcy, said,

"Oh is the reason so heinous? Had I known I would not have asked."

It would be like Jane, Lizzy thought, to believe Caroline when Caroline said she would not have asked. But Lizzy guessed otherwise. She believed Caroline was trying to categorize the Bennet's as morally inferior – so Lizzy said, "Heinous? No my parents are fine people. Don't put words in my mouth." Darcy admired her spirit. She was direct. And he realized that both sisters were most likely struggling from time to time – as was he – with unwanted questions or comments. He thought Caroline would stop. However she insinuated further by asking,

"Was there a someone else in either or both their lives? Your dad's a handsome man. Might he have been involved?"

At this point Caroline's dad returned carrying the sliced ham and her mother followed with a chafing dish full of scalloped potatoes. Mr. Bingley, who had heard the last two questions his daughter had asked, remedied her lack of etiquette when he said, "Mr. Bennet and his second wife only met once he moved here." And as he set the ham down Mr. Bingley added, "Greg and Jim, to begin your education in the law you ought to see Jane and Lizzy's father in court. An able foe." His remarks returned conversation to an even keel. But once again when her parents were in the kitchen – her mother getting the cake, her father the ice cream – Caroline began again to talk about the Bennet's divorce. "Don't you suppose," she asked, "that the stigma will color you? Any man who marries one of you will at some point have your mother on hand. As a woman alone, she will most likely move in with you and your husband. To one of you this is apt to happen. And she will most likely depend on one or all of you for income."

Lizzy said, "You, Caroline, do not know my mother. She has worked most of her life. In college she took a year off to work at a firm that did engineering. Despite that year off she graduated on time and with a double degree: elementary ed and math. Along with teaching over the years, she earned a master's degree – in math. She now teaches high school math and works part time for EDS – as a systems analyst."

When Bingley wondered what systems analysts did Lizzy said, "In her case, we're not certain. Again, top secret. Whatever she does, though, we know her work is tied to Nellis Air Force Base's Red Flag games."

Bingley asked what Red Flag was.

To this Jane answered, "War games involving jet fighters."

The talk returned to normal again when Bingley's parents returned to the table – this time bearing cake and ice cream. To help keep the subject changed, Bingley said, "What a beautiful cake."

Caroline answered, "Just the kind of comment one expects from you." When her brother asked what she meant Caroline added, "You're happy with anything," and then after looking at Jane she said, "and anyone."

Caroline's mother said, "Bingley is agreeable, sometimes to a fault. But liking others is a virtue. As is complimenting cakes your mother makes." Darcy smiled and Elizabeth almost laughed.

Next, Caroline name dropped. She roomed with the daughter of a General Authority so in referring to her she next said "-'s mother makes a fruitcake from scratch."

Bingley, to show the discriminating side of his nature, said, "Fruitcake? Who eats fruitcake?" Lizzy liked fruitcake and Jane and Lizzy – as has been said – knew their mother loved it, but neither was tempted to help Caroline out – especially not with mention of their mother.

Since the fruitcake comment fell flat Caroline began to talk about the Riviera which is where she lived. She said, "I'd hoped to get Jim and Greg there – that basement apartment in which they live and its accompanying ward are regrettable."

Bingley said, "I like my student ward."

"You would," said his sister, "because you like everything. But the Riv has more to offer."

Jane and Lizzy knew "The Riv's" reputation. Lots of rich kids lived there and the rents were high. Jane and Lizzy had friends from home who lived at the Riv, and had been to their apartments, the rooms of which were no nicer nor larger than those at Campus Plaza. And Campus Plaza, which fit in a corner made by the university's student center and botanical garden, was lots closer to campus.

"The Riv," added Caroline, "shows outdoor movies."

"True," said Lizzy. She and Jane had been to one the previous spring. The Osmonds, who owned the Riv, had erected a big screen that created a drive in movie atmosphere which Lizzy thought was fun. And a few of the Osmonds were on hand, and friendly.

Darcy said, "They're not showing movies out-of-doors now."

"No," admitted Caroline, "not in the snow."

When the Bennet sisters left, Darcy was relieved partly because Caroline's jabs at them were mean. Although he had to admit some of what Caroline said was true. They did carry a stigma because of their parents' divorce. His mother who, as the wife of a diplomat, had lived all over the world and who because of this had a very open mind made similar statements about families of divorce. Women did tend to talk derisively about those connected to divorce. He was also troubled by Jane – she hadn't looked at Bingley at all. Little did Darcy realize – Jane had not even realized it herself – but Jane had been humbled by Caroline's comments, so humbled she'd hardly looked up from her plate. Darcy took this as further proof of Jane Bennet's lack of interest in Bingley. But mostly, Darcy was glad the Bennets were gone because he realized he was becoming partial to Lizzy. He found her pretty, witty and wise and well able to defend herself, and once again he went to sleep thinking about her large dark eyes.

When Lizzy and Jane got home – they had borrowed their dad's car, Jane was not put out. Anger was not a part of her nature. Lizzy however was. She said, "Caroline's comments, because they were intrusive, were rude." And she categorized Caroline as unkind. How could Jane – even with her sweet temper – argue? Lizzy was right. So, following a rule she had adopted as a child – if you can't say anything kind, don't say anything at all – Jane kept silent as both settled into the bed assigned to them in their stepmother's basement. Though the evening had been upsetting both finally fell asleep, only to be woken soon thereafter by Lydia (who in preparation for their trip had taken the bus to Salt Lake City) coming home from a date with Wickham.

Chapter Fourteen

As a member of BYU's dance team, Charlotte planned to dance, and have dancing at her reception. She and her father would dance the traditional first dance alone after which her father would lead her to Collins. Charlotte had danced so often in competitions that she had no fears for herself. Nor for her father: he danced well. But Collins was another matter. When Charlotte had tried to teach him to dance, she found he had no aptitude for it. So, she turned to her partner, a young man who taught social dance at BYU. This young man, by the way, was loathe to lose Charlotte. He enjoyed her company. Plus, with her he had a competitive edge: Her carriage and lines were elegant, as was her manner of dress and her speech. She could charm judges on and off the floor.

But Collins was different. He was a clod. Plus, he had no memory for steps. Charlotte wanted a waltz played for their first dance together – Charlotte and her partner were waltz champs – but her partner said, "No. Can I be frank?" Charlotte knew her partner. He was – at least when it came to dance – blunt with or without permission so she agreed. "Your Mr. Collins," the partner said, "is such a sack of flour that he could never waltz through a room. You would have to carry him, and if you waltzed around a corner I think he'd fly off. The most Tom Collins can manage is a quick step – and no fancy moves." Charlotte took her partner's advice to heart.

Because they were anxious to meet up with old friends and spend time in celebration with them, Charlotte's parents had invited every member of their old ward – whether they were, like the Bingley's and Wickham's aunt, old members, or like the Bennet's (excluding Mrs. B2) – new ones, or like Darcy and Wickham: friends or relations of ward members, whether new or old.

And though it was called a reception it was a come at the beginning and stay to the end event. A late supper was planned and most of the ward had planned to come and had RSVP'd.

The building that housed Charlotte's parents' former ward, like all other LDS wards, had a cultural hall the size of a basketball court. Indeed, the room had a wood floor with side and end line marks and basketball hoops which could fold down. This was where church dances and parties were held, games like volleyball and basketball were played, and church dinners were hosted.

Unlike other wards, the cultural hall of this building had at one end a twisted flight of stairs which led to an upper room, which was quite large. When Charlotte told Lizzy and Jane that her parents planned to hold the supper in the upper room Lizzy said, "Oh, I like the sound of those words 'upper room.' Didn't Jesus eat his last supper in one?"

"Yes," said Charlotte, "But let's hope this is not my last." Her remark made Jane and Lizzy hope Charlotte was having second thoughts. But alas, she was not and they realized this when Charlotte gave them both the pattern – Jane and Lizzy wore the same size – and fabric for their bridesmaids' gowns. To make them Lizzy and Jane borrowed a sewing machine from a student that lived downstairs.

As they made their dresses Jane said, "At least Charlotte has good taste."

"In fashion yes. But men," answered Lizzy, "No. Collins is tall, heavyset, and awkward. And so makes a fool of himself when he speaks that it is painful for people to want to spend time around him." Charlotte was out of the apartment, so the sisters could speak freely.

The dresses had close fitting bodices and long flared skirts and because of their simple lines were easy to make. Both were made of pretty, flowing fabric that needed no lining. The fabric was a brilliant red softened by occasional small white sprigs. They were so stylish and so different from the regular bridesmaid dresses that their other friends who had been brides had chosen that the sisters planned to wear the dresses to Girl's Reverse. "And," said Jane, "we can wear them to the Gold and Green Ball."

"Only one of us can," said Lizzie. "At Girl's Reverse we can be in separate ballrooms, but at the Gold and Green, in the same ballroom we would look like Bobbsey twins."

"True," said Jane. "But the dresses are perfect for dancing."

"Yes," Lizzie agreed. "I believe Charlotte often used this pattern when she competed."

When the sisters reached the Salt Lake City basement room that served as their bedroom they first off unpacked the dresses and hung them in the armoire that served as a closet downstairs. When their sister Lydia saw the dresses she said, "Ugh. I'm glad I get to choose what I wear to that reception." Lydia had a miniskirt she planned to put on. "I know," she said, "Granny dresses are in, but I plan to show off my legs."

Elizabeth was already tired of Lydia and said, "Goodie for you." Next, Lydia bragged that she had a date: George Wickham. To this neither sister said a thing. Lizzy, though, did envy Lydia because, to repeat, George Wickham was handsome and his nonchalance made him sexy and fun. But she and Jane also realized that they were going to the reception to support Charlotte. And both were honored that Charlotte, who had no sisters, had chosen them. Collins – sister-less as well – was pleased to consider Jane and Lizzy somewhat his sisters too. To say the least, they would photograph well and Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh was already waiting to see photographs. When Collins reached Fort- he would have much to show off: a new wife, a commission, a position as a cleric, and wedding photographs as well.

As a now commissioned officer Collins wore his dress uniform to his reception. The almost dark black green of the uniform did fit with the holiday theme of the wedding. Charlotte and her mother had decorated the hall with white Christmas lights, poinsettias, and several trees (all gladly loaned by friends) and had used poinsettias as centerpieces on the round supper tables upstairs.

Lizzy and Jane came an hour early for pictures and to help Charlotte and her family with the final set up – not that the ladies put up any of the several round tables positioned around the perimeter of the downstairs room. Such tables were so stationed so that guests who did not wish to dance would have somewhere to spread out their belongings. Since they were early, after the pictures and the set up, the two sisters positioned themselves at a table around the perimeter where they watched the guests arrive. Darcy and the Bingley's came early. Wickham and Lydia and Wickham's aunt were not far behind. Lizzy noticed that once Darcy saw where Wickham and his party had seated itself, he, after whispering to Bingley, chose a table on the opposite side of the room. Like a basketball game, thought Lizzy, opposing teams sit on opposing sides. Her father, stepmother, and Jeff, when they arrived, were motioned over by Bingley's father where they were invited to sit at the same table. Ugh, Lizzy thought, close proximity to Darcy. She knew that she and Jane, out of loyalty, would have to crowd around the Bingley/Darcy table which they almost immediately did. Half an hour of chit chat for the guests to arrive ensued during which time her stepmother, who was childless and sometimes happy to accept the Bennet children as her own, spoke of her belief that Jane would soon be married to Jim Bingley. Thank heaven Jane was not present. She had left the table to accompany Jim Bingley to the Bingley's car where his family's present for Charlotte and Tom had been forgotten. In the hustle to get into the building the present had been left in the trunk of the car. Lizzy was grateful Jane and Jim had not heard. But Darcy and Caroline – who shot one another a glance – did. Bingley's parents, however, seemed unperturbed. Perhaps because both liked Jane and both knew that Mrs. B2 (though they did not call her so) had a penchant for jumping to unwarranted conclusions. In truth, neither of Bingley's parents would have minded a marriage between their son and Jane so perhaps this is why they ignored the remark.

A half hour into the reception, Charlotte's dance partner (who had agreed to act as MC), after introducing the bridal couple, invited Mr. Lucas, Charlotte's dad, to lead Charlotte in the first dance. Next, Charlotte, again to all eyes, danced with Collins. Collins missed several steps but instead of glossing over any mistakes Collins apologized loudly. Were it not for his uniform he would have seemed silly, but the uniform gave him some dignity. The MC (again, Charlotte's dance team partner) claimed the third dance with Charlotte by saying, "This is the last time we shall dance together."

The two put on a short exhibition number during which the reason the two had won so many titles was evident. Mrs. B2 whispered – rather loudly – "Why didn't she marry him?"

Jane's answer, "He's happily married and was when they became partners," prompted Mrs. B2 to add,

"What a shame. He's handsome."

To this Caroline Bingley said, "Yes. Unlike the groom." Everyone, excluding Mrs. B2, understood how hurtful Caroline's statement was, and her remark, though their daughter did not realize it, embarrassed her parents. Both wished their daughter were less judgmental and would hush.

Both parents were grateful when their son said, "Collins is generous. He loaned us his car. He is, in his way, generous to a fault and anxious to please, which is no mean feat."

Lizzy said, "Jim, you are generous too."

Jim replied, "Lizzy, I did not know till now that you studied character."

Darcy said, "In the confines of a Mormon ward, you cannot find much to study. And memberships of wards are often static. You should study the world."

Mrs. B2, thinking Darcy was criticizing Mormons for being backward, said, "Mormons are as sophisticated as people anywhere on Earth. We have as much of _that_ going on as anywhere."

Even kind hearted Mrs. Bingley was surprised.

When Darcy looked away and reverted to his typical silence Mrs. B2, thinking herself the victor, said, "I cannot see that any area has the advantage over us – except larger metropolises, which would have better shops."

Caroline mocked this by saying, "Is shopping your prime aim?"

Caroline's mother, in a gentle voice, said to her daughter, "It usually is yours."

Elizabeth tried to make her stepmother understand that Greg Darcy was not mocking Mormons by saying, "You mistook his words. He only meant there are fewer people in a ward than in the population in general, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear. Who said there were not? But as to not meeting many people in a ward, there are not many more agreeable places than a ward. Your father and me haven't been married long, but have already been out with twenty-four couples."

Bingley alone, and only out of concern for Jane and Lizzy, kept his countenance. But Caroline, anxious to class the Bennets as beneath her, looked at Darcy with a knowing smile.

Mr. Lucas, Charlotte's father stopped to talk. When he moved to the next table so he could chat with those at it Mrs. B2 said, "Now there's an agreeable man. One can tell he's well-bred because he always has something to say to everyone. That is my idea of good breeding and those people who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths" – Mrs. B2 now looked directly at Darcy – "quite mistake the meaning of 'gentlemen.'" (Earlier, Mrs. B2 had tried to engage Darcy in conversation and been rebuffed.)

Mrs. B2 then mentioned how plain Charlotte was – which Lizzy hoped no one heard – then added, "When I was a girl of fifteen, I was so pretty a young man wrote a sonnet to me." Lizzy, afraid she might recite it, said,

"Poetry drives love away."

Darcy said, "No. It's the food of love."

"Of love that's strong, but not weak."

Darcy, to cover the irritation he felt at being contradicted, smiled.

Lizzie's fears came true as Mrs. B2 began to recite the sonnet to her beauty. Thank goodness Lydia drew attention from her by, once the crowd started to dance, calling out, "Do the hustle. Let's dance the hustle. Got any hustle music?"

The small combo the Lucas family had hired did and once it started playing the music, the Hustle, which is a line dance, ensued. As Lydia took the fixed steps forward, back, right and left she sashayed, swung her hips and let her body undulate. Her moves and miniskirt were anything but subdued. Nothing subtle about my sister Lydia, thought Lizzy. And the fact that Lizzy's stepmother, who was not exactly young, nor svelte, was now on the floor undulating too was noticed by Darcy. When the Hustle ended and as Mrs. B2 left the floor George Wickham invited Lizzy to dance. The combo had lots of tunes in its repertoire – some rock, some hillbilly, some traditional – and Wickham, who was a fine dancer, taught Lizzy rather quickly to do a fun dance called the Texas Two-Step. When she returned to her seat Caroline Bingley scooted next to her and said, "It looks to me like you are as delighted as your sister with George Wickham. Allow me to tell you as a friend, beware." When Lizzy asked for particulars Caroline could give none – only that Wickham's assertions that Darcy had treated him ill were without merit. But again, since Caroline could give no particulars, and since Lizzie realized that Caroline was not her friend, and since she thought ill of Darcy she gazed off and when Caroline realized her counsel was being given no consequence she scooted back to her own seat. As soon as she did Darcy, whom Collins on the strength of their mutual connection Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh, had latched onto early on, delatched himself and approached. Lizzy thought he had come to ask Caroline, but in lieu he asked Lizzy to dance. If Lizzie had been given time to think she would have said no, but in the wake of surprise, she agreed.

As they danced Jim Bingley's mother, in all sincerity, offered, "How elegant Darcy and Lizzy look together." She next added, "Somehow they suit one another. Though Darcy should look less uncomfortable. After all, Darcy's an able dancer."

As Lizzy danced, all Lizzy could think about was her ill opinion of Darcy. And her opinion was ill because of several reasons. One was that Darcy had ruined Wickham's chances. Well actually, he hadn't ruined Wickham's chances because Wickham was in law school, but Wickham did have to scramble for money. Another reason was that Lizzy was tired of people looking down on her and members of her family – chief among them Darcy – even though when it came to her stepmother and Lydia she sometimes did the same. And yet another reason was she was tired of Darcy and his proud ways so she made no attempt at conversation, which forced Greg Darcy to speak. He asked Lizzy her holiday plans. She said, "I said before – tomorrow, early in the morning, my siblings and I will drive with George Wickham to Akron where we'll meet our mother. She's flying. Her family lives there."

Darcy said, "With the embargo, this might not be the best time for such a trip."

"Well, barring emergency," said Lizzy, "it's on, come what may."

As the dance concluded Darcy starchly said, "Good outcome, I hope and best wishes for a jolly Christmas and happy new year."

"Same to you," said Lizzy as they parted.

Later, as Lizzy was grabbing her coat, Charlotte came to her and said, "Promise you'll visit. Collins says Mrs. de Bourgh, through her husband, can get you a spot on a military flight. It will cost nothing – no seats, just benches. And you strap in. Bring your own food. Obviously, no in-flight service. But airline food's lacking anyway. Promise you'll come. Spring break."

Lizzy smiled and said, "If someone can swing the flight, I'll be there."

Charlotte was pleased. She'd made her peace with Collins. She knew what she was marrying and was determined to make it work. Consequently, her feelings about Lizzy's willingness to visit had nothing to do with Collins, but rather much to do with the fact that she was leaving what she knew of life behind and wished to bring a little of it forward – if only for the length of spring break.

With Lizzy's promise in hand, Charlotte set off for the bridal suite at the Hotel Utah which would be followed that following morning by her own trek east in Collins' Chevy for Fort-.

Lizzy watched Charlotte leave and also saw Bingley kiss Jane goodbye on the forehead, which was sweet. Darcy saw Bingley's kiss as well. Lizzy knew he had because their eyes met as both glanced away to give Jane and Bingley privacy.

Lizzy supposed that Darcy was mortified by the scene – more properly by the connection. He was not. Instead, he envied Bingley and his easy ways and Wickham's boldness and nonchalance. Darcy wished he could kiss Lizzy's forehead. Of course he was across the room so for more than one reason this was impossible. He did manage, when he looked again at her, to hold her gaze for a moment with his nod. After returning it, Lizzy walked off and into the parking lot to wait with the rest of her family in their car. Jane, not one to keep others waiting, followed close behind and had come out alone. Her family and Bingley's had parked on opposite sides of the building and when Bingley had offered to walk her to her family's car she had declined. She could see Darcy and now Caroline waiting for Bingley at one of the exits from the cultural hall, and she did not feel comfortable under the gaze of either so she made the excuse, "I hate to keep your family waiting."

Bingley hated to part but did so, but both had plans to meet shortly in the New Year. After all, they were in the same student ward so, never fear, both would see each other in Provo quite often.

Chapter Fifteen

Collin's car was considerably less crowded than George Wickham's Volkswagen bug. Lydia, per usual, took the best seat, the front. With Wickham at the wheel, this left Lizzy, Jane, and Jeff squeezed in back. The amount of luggage they could bring was limited to the size of the trunk under the hood. Plus, they had to fit in food for 36 hours. Jane and Lizzy had brought cans of deviled ham, oranges, apples, crackers, and a can opener. When they stopped for gas they would drink water at a gas station.

Their plan was to follow I-80 from Salt Lake to Cleveland and from there dip over to Akron – which today is something of a suburb of Cleveland. But back when their parents had lived there, which is where their parents had met, it was not a suburb but a city and one well known for being the headquarters of Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company.

When Mr. Bennet had gone on his mission – this was right after World War II – he had attracted the attention of a fellow passenger, one with a secret love for the LDS church. This passenger was the chairman of the board of Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company and Mr. Bennet's efforts to host LDS Sunday Services on board had impressed him. When their father returned from his mission this same CEO invited their father to work at Goodyear, which their father did.

The Bennet children's maternal grandfather, when he was alive, had worked at Goodyear too. He'd started work at a young age in something called the band room. All Lizzy could recall about what she'd been told of the band room was that it sounded as if her maternal grandfather had first worked on an assembly line.

Goodyear offered night classes to its employees and through them their grandfather had become an accountant. When, at the start of World War II, Goodyear was asked to create Goodyear Aircraft Company, Jane, Lizzy, Jeff and Lydia's maternal grandfather built one of the earliest modern computers in the country to handle the company's increasingly complicated payroll. Lizzy did not understand computers, but her mother did and when asked had once said, "I would say, yes, my father built a computer because I watched him wire the boards."

This grandfather had died when Lizzie was eight. But when she was small he and her grandmother had driven out a number of times to visit their daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren in Las Vegas – their father was from Las Vegas and after a stint at Goodyear and in the Air Force, had returned. And the Bennet family – when it was one – had sometimes traveled to Akron for visits with their mother's relations. So I-80, on which they traveled, was no stranger. As they drove along geographer Jeff explained that the western part of Interstate 80 followed the Oregon Trail, that in the Midwest it followed the Ohio Turnpike and that it traveled through Salt Lake City; Cheyenne, Wyoming; Omaha, Nebraska; Des Moines, Iowa; Chicago, Toledo, and Cleveland, which again, was where they would get off.

Lizzy liked Wyoming: the few cities, when they appeared, were tiny, the sky, even during the day, was vast. It was all clean and unclouded. In fact, it felt like the rest of the west (excluding California) – wide open. But as they moved east and pulled off for gas in large cities the feeling of freedom and safety Lizzy had felt disappeared. The snow piled up. They spun around on an icy overpass. Luckily they did not veer off through the low guard rail because Wickham had managed to pull out of the skid by turning into it. And sometimes they waited in – because of the embargo (Darcy had been right) – long gas lines. For instance, they waited several hours in one outside of Chicago. During the wait Wickham, at Lizzy's request, gave Lizzie a first-hand account of his parents' demise – from injuries due to an auto accident, which they survived but later in the hospital succumbed to. As friends who were at the time in the country (Darcy's parents did, from time to time, return home from postings) the Darcy's visited Wickham's parents in the hospital where each made a solemn vow to help Wickham. After Wickham's parents died and the Darcy's left for another posting their son convinced them – Wickham knew not how – to recant and they no longer financially helped him. This meant he'd had to make his own way as an undergrad at BYU. But now, in law school, summer clerkships at law offices or with judges were helping him survive.

At the next stop for gas, when Lizzy was in the gas station restroom with Jane she decried Greg Darcy and his parents. To this Jane said, "It does sound grave. But we must remember there are two sides to a story. I don't want to think ill of Wickham. He's pleasant, and his open manner about everything makes him believable."

"And Darcy's so guarded," interrupted Lizzy, "that Darcy seems guilty. As if he won't defend himself because he can't."

"Or perhaps he won't because there's no need – no truth to what Wickham says. Proud people, and Greg Darcy is proud, don't stoop."

Lizzy asked what her sister meant by the words, "Don't stoop."

"Lower himself," said Jane. "Some people brave criticism by behaving like it does not exist. They don't dodge. They don't duck. Darcy strikes me as that kind of man. He does what he does despite what people say."

"Yes, he does not seem the sort to bother with others. Is that what you mean?"

Jane was about to answer "no" when Lydia flashed in saying, "Time's up. Let's go. The car's filled and we're off."

Jane was thinking that it was wrong to think ill of either man. She felt tender toward Wickham and his troubles. Even though her parents had divorced and divorce came with its own set of problems her parents were alive and Jane could not imagine life without them. But she also could not imagine Darcy incapable of common humanity. She wanted a moment to convey this, but Lydia insisted, "Come on, Lizzy. It's your turn to drive." And once in the car Jane thought it wise to give over talking about Darcy.

Lizzy liked her aunt Nadia's house, which is where she and Jane were staying in Akron. Aunt Nadia had five sons, all close to Lizzy and her siblings in age. The two oldest were in college but home for the holidays. And the younger three were in high school. In aunt Nadia's house there were three bedrooms (not counting the master) that were upstairs. One room – an overly long room – had three beds (just like Jane and Lizzy's bedroom in Campus Plaza) and that was where the three sons in high school were temporarily bunking, the two from college were staying in the other bedroom that faced the front of the house, and Jane and Lizzy had been given the bedroom, which like the master, faced the back of the house. This bedroom, like the master, contained a door into a bathroom. In the case of the room in which Jane and Lizzie were sleeping, the door led into a bathroom which could also be accessed by a door in the hall. Aunt Nadia wanted her nieces to have some privacy, which was absolutely like aunt Nadia. She catered to girls most likely because she had none.

Lydia and Jeff were staying with their mother at her mother's, but the extended family got together as often as the visit would allow.

During this visit, which was short and punctuated by the two, thirty-six hour drives, Jane and Lizzy ran around with their cousins. Their cousins had friends in – guys. Their parents (Aunt Nadia and Uncle Michael) liked hosting their children's friends and to help do so had installed a pool table in their unfinished basement. So Jane and Lizzy spent time downstairs while their cousins and friends played pool.

Two of the friends asked Jane and Lizzy out – to dinner no less, at a restaurant called the Brown Derby. The following day Jane and Lizzy learned from their cousins that their friends classed Mormon girls as pretty.

On Christmas Eve the Bennet's went with their Russian relatives to church – Lizzy liked the heady feeling the incense gave her. And they went to dinner at various relations' houses. Since their parents had been divorced they had largely been around their dad's relations, so it was nice to see their mother's relations and a visit to Ohio and her relations brought back old times. This was not the only Christmas they had visited Ohio. Lizzy had a crazy picture of herself and Jane next to a Christmas tree. Both wore the same red and white striped pajamas and matching Santa-type caps. According to the caption on the bottom rim of the picture it had been snapped during a visit to Ohio when Lizzy was six. Lizzy sometimes looked at it because it was a souvenir of happier days.

Lydia spent some time with Wickham – a couple of dates – and when he took her to where he was staying she met yet another of Wickham's aunts. But Wickham was as busy with his family as Lydia was with hers. And Lydia, as fond as she was of men, liked meeting and flirting with her cousins' friends – even friends of the cousins that were still in high school, which made sense: Lydia had not yet been out of high school a year.

Their return with Wickham was like the trip out, uneventful, except for a screaming noise the engine made. Wickham pulled over and geographer Jeff, who was something of a mechanic, got into the engine in back and detached an unimportant wire. The rest of the trip was quiet. Wickham didn't repeat his Darcy-inflicted woes, which strengthened his case. No one could say of him: Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.

Lydia had been given $200 by their stepmother with which she had bought six pair of shoes which she insisted on bringing back in their boxes, and this further crowded the bug. But all in all it was a safe and fun trip. They drove through Salt Lake in the middle of the night and were deposited back at their apartment door not long after. Lydia, with Charlotte gone, was sleeping in Charlotte's bed and would herself be gone via Greyhound to Las Vegas before Lizzy and Jane's new roommate arrived. Lydia would be driven to the Greyhound station later that day by Wickham – after both got some sleep. The two had already arranged a pickup time.

By the following day Jane and Lizzy's new roommate had arrived. Her name was Cynthia King, commonly called Cindy. She, like Lizzy, wrote poems. Cindy recited one. "I sit in church and fantasize/When meetings run on so/That Moses comes and loudly cries/Let my people go."

Nothing pretentious about Cindy King. She could never replace Charlotte, but Lizzy liked her, and not just because of her poems, which were all funny. Lizzy liked her because she was on a budget. Too many of Lizzy's friends from home had parents who were rich. But Cindy struggled with money like the Bennet's did. Between the poems and the money, the girls would get on together.

Plus, Cindy had a part time job at the University Bookstore and with the crush that always came with each new semester was able to get Jane and Lizzy on, first as part-time, temporary help and soon thereafter from part-time temp. to permanent part time. Twenty hours a week for each of them was glorious money.

Chapter Sixteen

The first Sunday after Christmas break, which occurred before school began, Jane expected to see Bingley at church, but didn't. Thinking he was ill, she looked for Darcy to ask about Bingley, but Darcy had not appeared either. After Sunday School, Jane asked Lizzy if she had seen either. Lizzy had not. Neither had other ward members. Not that Jane or Lizzy canvassed the entire population. But both made a few discreet inquiries. Neither appeared the following Sunday as well and in that time period Bingley did not call – either in person, or on the phone. "It's as if," Jane said, "Bingley has disappeared."

Before the third week of the new semester ended, Caroline came through the line in the bookstore that fed into Jane's register. That particular day Lizzy was working the same shift but she was working the floor. As Jane rang up Caroline's items Jane asked, "Is Bingley ill?"

Caroline said, "No." Then offered nothing beyond no. Lizzy, who had moved over toward Jane when she saw Caroline get in line, had heard the interchange and felt Caroline owed Jane more so Lizzy straight out asked, "Then why haven't we seen him at church?"

"In your ward? " Caroline answered. "Because he is no longer a member." What came out was an enraptured speech by Caroline Bingley about two unexpected vacancies in the same apartment in the Riv. Darcy and Bingley had been "Lucky enough to snag both."

Did Caroline actually say, "snag" Lizzy thought. Indeed she had.

Lizzy was perplexed. Although Bingley had moved he could have called. What was stopping him? Whatever it was, it was creating a sadness in Jane that Lizzy, until now, had never seen. And as the weeks passed and Jane's mood did not improve Lizzy recognized that Jane had deep feelings for Bingley that so affected her that now, when someone asked Jane out, she said no. And when Lizzy asked why, Jane said, "I have no appetite. The evenings spent with others would seem dull, and I know I would spend them thinking about Bingley, which wouldn't be fair to someone who's asked me out. Anything I would say during the date would be an effort. So I ought to stay home and study." Jane's minor was chemistry and she was in a tough, upper division class.

When Jane was not around – Cindy King, their new roommate, wondered about Bingley. Lizzy gave a good report about Bingley's character and also said she felt he "reciprocated." By that she meant he felt as much for Jane as she for him. When Cindy said, "What happened?" Lizzy answered,

"Without speaking to Bingley I don't exactly know. But I do believe his sister and his friend, Greg Darcy, have disparaged my sister and spirited Bingley away." She almost said, "It would not be the first time Darcy has ruined someone's future – or tried to." She was thinking, of course of Greg Darcy's efforts to wreck Wickham's future, but because she did not like to gossip she decided to leave that part unsaid.

After the pause that ensued, while Lizzie thought the preceding, Cindy King said, "How can a grown man be so easily led?"

Lizzy said, "Jim Bingley is easy going to a fault and highly values Greg Darcy's opinion. Jim told me once that when he and Greg were freshman and roommates at DT Darcy, by using his judgment, kept Jim out of the company of floor members who were eventually put on probation for violations of the honor code. Perhaps that has made Darcy's judgment infallible. And Bingley's sister is a snob and though Jane only will now admit it Caroline thought we were beneath the Darcy's and Bingley's for various reasons: money and our lack of social standing being two."

Cindy King, a good-hearted girl, as she watched Jane, became concerned over her lack of ability to rebound. So in early February she came to Lizzy with a proposition. Cindy King was on the Girl's Reverse steering committee. Girl's Reverse was a two night event and if the sisters would dress up and function as hostesses for the first night in the grand ballroom of the Wilkinson Center they could have four free tickets for the following evening in that same place. The cost of tickets to Girl's Reverse in the grand ballroom of the Wilkinson Center was $50 a couple. It was a beautiful room and the evening boasted live music and a sit down dinner.

Still with all that, Lizzie had to persuade Jane. She did so by tugging on Jane's charitable nature. Lizzy said, "If you went it would help me. I have someone I want to ask so the hostessing with free tickets suits me. But I don't want to hostess alone. And as to the following night we could double date. And since I've never dated this man before there would be a lot less pressure."

Jane was such a softie, of course she agreed.

When the sisters produced the bridesmaids' dresses from Charlotte's wedding Cindy King said, "Even one will not do. Let's make something new. Make a real night of it." Cindy had asked a young man and the three couples were now going together. They would sit at the same dinner table etc.

Cindy King had a sewing machine and connections at a fabric store that would get them discounts. The activity of finding patterns, choosing fabrics, laying and cutting pieces out, sewing up seams, pressing them open, trying parts on, making alterations, hemming gowns and sleeves up helped Jane's mood and though she still regretted the loss of Bingley, getting up, going, and going out, served her well. And the young man she invited was outgoing and even though she did not think of him in a romantic way he was so interesting to talk to that when he asked her out after Girl's Reverse she agreed and enjoyed it.

In fact, they were still dating in March when he invited Jane, Lizzy, and Cindy and the dates they had taken to Girl's Reverse to spend a ski weekend at his family's cabin. The cabin lay at the base of a run at Solitude. The six planned to ski on Friday night then wake up on Saturday and ski again. His parents were to act as hosts.

Jane and Lizzy had skis from high school, but had left them home and Cindy King had none so their dates had to rent skis, poles and boots for them. Added to this expense, the young man's parents had gone to a great deal of trouble to make everything grand. The two had bought and brought in lots of food, which they cooked. For instance, on Saturday morning his mom had woken up ultra early so that the dough she mixed for the scones would be properly risen when she fried them.

So Lizzy was almost embarrassed when she and Jane stopped partway down the slope to wait for their dates and Jane said, "Look. It's Bingley. That's his cap."

Sure enough, a young man with Bingley's coloring and a blue cap with Bingley's noticeable red cross on the front glided by – then stopped a little further down the mountain.

After looking a bit at the stopped figure, Lizzy said, "It does look like Bingley, but the man before us is much shorter than Bingley." Jane wanted to ski after him to make certain. But suddenly stopped herself by saying,

"Whether he is or not, to ski after him would be rude to my date, and his parents. I wonder what happened to Bingley? I must have misunderstood his interest."

Lizzy was glad Jane had stopped herself and done so before their dates reached them. But she felt for Jane. The excitement Jane had expressed when she thought it was Bingley and the following flat look in Jane's eyes when she said, "I wonder what happened to Bingley? I must have misunderstood his interest," made Lizzie further aware that Jane was far from cured.

Two weeks before spring break a dramatic event that involved Cindy King took place. _The Provo Herald_ and campus newspaper were full of it. An elderly gentleman whom people did not think much of, who lived in a small room downtown, died. He was no bum but no one thought he was rich either. This elderly man died intestate which meant his fortune, which was considerable, would go to his next of kin who turned out to be Cindy King. Cindy's deceased mother (Cindy had no memory of her mother because her mother had died when Cindy was born) was the gentleman's great niece, which made Cindy his closest living relative.

Reporters from the campus newspaper and _The Provo Herald_ ran the old gentleman's picture next to Cindy's. And in the articles that accompanied the pictures both quoted Cindy's roommate Lizzy Bennet, who said, "The connection was not apparent, and Cindy is distressed she did not know about her great uncle prior to his death because she is so good-hearted she would have made the end of his life less lonely."

Not two days after the article appeared George Wickham appeared at the girls' apartment. Cindy was home and answered the door and once Lizzy and Jane who had both been asked for came to the door and Wickham was invited in Lizzy introduced Cindy. Handsome and sexy George Wickham engaged Cindy in talk and spoke with the three of them a good while before he left. On top of it, that night George called and asked Cindy out.

"What about Lydia?" Jane said to Lizzy when they were alone.

"I don't," Lizzy said, "imagine Lydia and Wickham have anything like an understanding. Don't you think Lydia dates?"

"Yes. It would be unusual for her not to. Remember when she was going with Steve Jones and cheated all the time?"

"Exactly," said Lizzy.

The answer "exactly" came to mind with Jane's next question, "Do you think Wickham is mercenary?" It seemed he was: The two had not heard from him since Christmas. But once Lizzy's name appeared in print in connection to a rags to riches story Wickham appeared, as it now appeared to them, hoping for an introduction. Both hoped they had not done Cindy a disservice. But what was done was done.

Anyway, spring break was around the corner. Cindy would go home to Sacramento, Wickham was going home to the opposite end of California – Santa Monica. So Cindy would spend a long week with family who could help her sort out her feelings and new found wealth.

Jane and Jeff had found rides home to Vegas via the ride board and as they packed Lizzy packed for her flight to Fort-, a trip in which she would keep her promise to visit Charlotte, someone she heard from by letter often.

Lizzy found herself excited. She also found her own ride (on the ride board) to Fort Hill where she would board a military plane, and where she found herself something of a VIP. All her paperwork had been signed by General de Bourgh's hand and this signature impressed every hand into which her paperwork was placed. She was ushered to a spot near one wing because there turbulence was least. And more than one serviceman who was seated on the long benches that flanked both sides of the plane gave her admiring glances. And when, at the other end of her flight, the general had sent his driver and his car to retrieve her, servicemen, right and left, stood to attention to salute her as she, now inside the general's car, left the airfield.

Much awaited her: Charlotte's cozy home (already described by letter); the PX (where, also from letters, Lizzy knew items could be bought at a discount); Rosings (the general and his wife's palatial billet); and Collins' benefactress, Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh. Lizzy was also anxious to see what Charlotte was making of Tom Collins. She hoped Tom Collins was proving a successful Pygmalion. One week with all would tell.

Chapter Seventeen

Charlotte and Collins' bungalow had once been servants' quarters to Rosings – more properly Rosings Park – where the general and his wife were billeted. The bungalow, Tudor in style, looked like an English parsonage, complete with laurel hedge and quaint front gate. According to the driver the bungalow came with a name: Hunsford.

Collins and Charlotte met Lizzy at the gate where Collins asked Lizzy about her family. When he asked in the same overly formal yet silly tone which he asked about everything, Lizzy realized his transformation had not yet taken place. Charlotte's Pygmalion remained only partway finished – actually unfinished.

Collins stayed by the gate to wait for the mailman whom Lizzy and the driver had seen on foot down the street. Collins habitually waited for the mailman to collect his and Charlotte's mail and the de Bourgh's following which he would deliver the de Bourgh's in person. In this way if Mrs. de Bourgh had any charges he was ready. This practice left Charlotte and Lizzy the delight of going in alone.

"The house," explained Charlotte as they came through the door, "is still largely furnished with army issue." She pointed to a pale green nagahyde sofa, a chrome and laminate top dinette set (the chair seats of which were covered with plastic cushions) "but I've already found furniture of my own." She pointed to a pretty looking wooden piece which she called a davenport. "See," she said, "the top slants to form a writing surface, the cap at the back opens to reveal storage space, and there's further storage in the drawers down the side. It can be easily moved because it's on casters. And it's small and lightweight enough that when we're reposted it won't upend our freight allotment."

"It's classy. Where did you find it?" asked Lizzy.

"At the Episcopalian thrift store which is where I found my other piece." Charlotte took Lizzy upstairs to the master bedroom to show her a dressing table with curved legs. This dressing table sat to the right side of the home's second fireplace. The other was in the main room. Lizzy had already noticed that the sampler of the cross-stitched home etc. Charlotte had made her Gaynote year in Primary hung over the fireplace there. In thinking about her choices Lizzy again realized that Charlotte had exquisite taste (except in men): The table was graceful; the davenport, though squat, had presence; and the colors in the sampler downstairs complimented the brick in the fireplace underneath it.

After pointing to the table upstairs Charlotte said, "My collection is growing. Perhaps you'll help me shop."

Lizzy was ready. She was Charlotte's friend and realized Charlotte was most likely lonely and in need of an ally or at least a sounding board when it came to shopping. But shopping for furniture was nowhere on her list and she'd been hoping Charlotte would suggest a trip to the PX, which was a place Charlotte had often written about. From the sounds of it Lizzy would be able to buy perfume, clothes – everything at a discount. With her money from her bookstore job Lizzy was hoping to improve her wardrobe, and at a PX price. But if Charlotte wanted to furniture shop, so be it.

Neither got her wish. As they were about to leave Mrs. de Bourgh, on the strength of Mr. Collins urging – he was now there with her mail – called asking, "I'm hosting bridge and two friends are ill. Can you and your guest possibly fill in? I know it's last minute."

What could Charlotte say other than yes.

"We'll have to dress," said Charlotte. "And hurry. The general and his wife cannot abide tardy guests – unless they are high-powered."

As Charlotte slid the receiver back into place Lizzy asked what Charlotte meant by dress.

"That we put on dresses, stockings, and Mrs. de Bourgh and her friends will be wearing gloves and hats. But she's already gotten over the shock of my lack of the latter. Thank goodness her husband's niece, who is living with them for a quarter of the year, doesn't wear the latter either. It was quite funny," Charlotte said, "to hear Mrs. de Bourgh say, 'Don't young ladies any longer wear hats and gloves?' to me, only to find when she arrived that her husband's exalted niece did not wear them either. Do you play bridge?"

"A little," Lizzy said. "I learned it from my mother who taught us all except Lydia who balked."

"Why did she teach you bridge?"

"I suppose because she liked the game and wanted partners."

"They play for stakes, but I'll get Collins to cover your losses."

"Who says I'll lose," said Lizzie as she headed upstairs to dress. "Even my mom sometimes loses to me. And she's a shark."

Mrs. de Bourgh played with the wives of the men her husband commanded and when she played bridge, did not play from an egalitarian point of view. Every lady save Lizzy knew to lose and Charlotte had not advised her friend because she thought Lizzy was kidding about her expertise. Thank goodness they were not seated at the same table with Mrs. de Bourgh because Lizzy, and Charlotte who was Lizzy's partner, took most of the tricks at the table. The two came out $25 ahead.

After the party it was too late for the Episcopalian thrift store. "But," said Charlotte, "the PX stays open till 6. Feel like spending your winnings?"

Of course Lizzy did. She put her share toward a red, front wrap dress which cost $18. The dress, last season's and deeply discounted, was made of a polished cotton that looked like silk. As the clerk wrapped it Charlotte said, "It will prove perfect for tomorrow night." Perfect because Charlotte, Collins and Lizzy had been invited to Rosings to dine.

Several hours before the dinner bell would sound at Rosings, Mrs. de Bourgh had telephoned Collins with commissions. Would he drive into town to pick up flowers for the table? Mrs. de Bourgh had chosen them over the phone. And would he pick up the de Bourgh's laundry and dry cleaning? Of course he would. He was more than delighted. He was ecstatic.

This left Lizzy and Charlotte more time to talk alone which while they weren't ecstatic types made them happy. It was impossible for the two ladies to talk with Collins around because Collins always wanted to talk about his patroness which is exactly what Charlotte wished to talk to Lizzy about. Only Charlotte was not near so ecstatic about Mrs. de Bourgh's condescensions as Collins called them. "I call them intrusions," Charlotte said. "For example, early, on the first morning after we arrived, Collins was called away because of clerical duties. A young mother had delivered a baby which weighed under five pounds, which meant the baby was on the critical list. A priest had stopped by the mother's room to offer last rites for the baby which he did for all babies on the list. The woman called her husband, an officer, who called Collins, who as newly arrived chaplain set out to survey the scene."

"How," Lizzy said, "did Collins handle so delicate a matter?"

Charlotte answered, "To my surprise, with aplomb. Collins works well with women. His solicitous behavior calms them. Of course the woman had every right for concern. Her baby was healthy and had no need for last rites which Collins discovered by speaking with several of the nurses in the newborn nursery."

"Okay," said Lizzy, "But where does Mrs. de Bourgh fit in?"

"I was alone upstairs," said Charlotte, "and because I was in a strange new house, attuned to every sound. So when, shortly after Collins left, I heard the front door open and then footsteps which were not Collins's – Collins is heavy set, as you know, and walks with a series of thuds – I was frightened. Especially because the steps of the intruder were light like those I assumed of a burglar. I was in the master, so I grabbed the poker by the fireplace and proceeded to sneak downstairs where whom should I find but Mrs. de Bourgh? She had let herself in. I was dressed in a nightie holding a poker out like a sword. I felt ridiculous."

"Did," Lizzy asked, "she apologize for letting herself in?"

"No. And does not now on her continuing raids."

"What does she come for?" wondered Lizzy.

"Morning inspection, I suppose. And she quizzes me. Her recent quizzing has concerned you. 'What kind of girl is your friend? And what is her age?' She's even asked your major. Mrs. de Bourgh is pleased with my degrees in nutrition because they will be useful when I have a family. But she believes you ought to have chosen elementary ed because such a degree will be more helpful to you when you have children. 'The elementary years,' as she says, 'lay the foundation.' She also tells me how much meat to buy for Collins and me. The last time she and the general dined with us she looked surprised at the size of the roast on the table. 'Too much,' she said, 'for two.' She had a look of almost horror on her face until the general reminded her that four of us were eating."

"She sounds," said Lizzy, "like an autocrat."

"And an authority. She has opinions on every matter and is not content to state them. She wants others to take her advice, thank her profusely, then follow it. Please don't contradict her tonight."

Lizzy said, "On that you have my word."

Collins' enthusiasm was at fever pitch as the three walked to Rosings. Rosings did look lovely by moonlight. Its white stone exterior gave off a soft glow into which were set large, dark windows.

Nothing in Rosings was Army issue. Lizzy had noticed that the day before. And whoever had owned the mansion before the Army did had made sure everything inside was refined. Lizzy supposed the de Bourghs had been posted all over the world because as she had noticed the day before, here and there were souvenirs – a Moroccan screen, a Japanese print, silk throws, a Persian rug – collected from various posts. Lizzy expected the general to be bossy like his wife, but he was a "laid back" man of the world, who answered the front door himself. He apologized – dinner would be delayed – because his wife's nephew and that nephew's cousin had called. The two had phoned just to say hello but had been urged to not only eat dinner at Rosings but stay the week: to use Rosings as their, as the general called it, _base of operations_. "The cook is laying places for them as we speak and both are now arrived and upstairs dressing."

Imagine her surprise when Lizzy saw Greg Darcy come down the staircase. She had forgotten that Mrs. de Bourgh was Greg's aunt. In fact she'd forgotten about Greg and really now only thought about him when Jane seemed sad which though Jane had given up her attachment to Bingley did sometimes happen.

Instead of Bingley, who was Darcy's usual companion, Darcy was followed by an uncle's youngest son, a Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked to be about 30 – young indeed for a colonel, or so said the general during dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam, unlike Darcy, was not a handsome man. But the colonel did have the same ease of manner Bingley did, which was, as Lizzy was now remembering, something Darcy lacked.

The lady of the house spoke largely to Darcy. After all, she was related to him through his mother; whereas, Colonel Fitzwilliam was related to Darcy through Darcy's father. As far as Lizzy could see, if Mrs. de Bourgh could have gracefully ditched the Collins and herself she would have.

Lizzy had been seated next to Colonel Fitzwilliam who found her pretty, pretty enough that he talked to her with much spirit and flow. This caused Darcy's eyes to turn to them with frequency. In truth, Darcy had not so easily forgotten about Lizzy as she had him. In fact he often thought about her large dark eyes which, when he arrived, Rosings' large windows had brought to mind.

The general took an interest in Lizzy too. She was a good deal prettier than his niece and he could see she was spirited without being dominating. To have her nephew, her nephew's cousin, and her husband clustered around or looking at or talking to a no one as far as Mrs. de Bourgh could see was _de trop_. So Mrs. De Bourgh called out, "What are all of you saying? Tell me."

The general answered, "that Lizzy Bennett's mother is a systems analyst at Red Flag. But believe me, this young lady is modest and does not easily give personal information up. To get anything out of her the colonel and I have had to resort to military interrogation tactics."

Darcy laughed, which worried Collins. He didn't like to see anyone but Mrs. de Bourgh the center of attention – especially in her own house, and he vowed to speak with Charlotte about the matter. Not right now though. Charlotte was doing her duty by talking in an animated way to the general's niece about the niece's plans for the future. (As far as Charlotte could see the niece had none.)

Later, with dinner finished, the party moved to what Mrs. de Bourgh called the salon. The salon was a large room that contained sofas, chairs, occasional tables and a long bookcase and grand piano. Eventually, the general said, "Does anyone play? My wife and I don't, so why we have hauled this dang thing around the world remains a mystery?"

"Because," Mrs. de Bourgh said, "A piano is a mark of culture."

The general answered, "So you have often said. Again, does anyone play?"

When Lizzy answered, "A little," Charlotte thought, if she plays anything like bridge, she'll play a concerto.

Before she sat on it Lizzy opened the bench and sorted through the piano books inside before choosing one. She subsequently spread her choice out on the piano's built in stand, sat, opened the keyboard and started to play "Barbara Allen." Darcy liked her choice: his sister played the same tune and other Scotch & English airs. Some were fast, and Darcy liked those, but he much preferred the pace of "Barbara Allen" and the fact that the tune – not just because of the words – was haunting.

Recognizing the tune as well – and liking the words the General called, "Can anyone sing?"

When Lizzy answered, "A little," and then began to sing, "In London town where I was born there was a young maid dwellin'/ And everyone cried well-a-day her name is Barbara Allen," and did so in quite a pretty voice Charlotte thought, I have known Lizzy Bennet for three years and not once has she mentioned her voice, the fact that she's a card shark, nor her skill at the piano. A modest soul. Charlotte further thought, She's so unlike other roommates I've had. One's with half her talent seemed to talk constantly about their special gifts. Not Lizzy, thought Charlotte, nor her sister Jane.

Darcy's first thought was of Georgiana who, as has already been said, sometimes played this song. (Georgiana, close to eighteen, currently lived with an aunt in Santa Monica. She had lived with their parents when she was younger and they were posted abroad. But when she reached middle school her parents thought it best to send her stateside for public schooling.) Rather quickly though Darcy began to think only of Lizzy: of her eyes and how pretty and right she looked in her dinner dress. She was definitely at home in rich surroundings.

He continued to think of her and in fact the ringing quality to her singing voiced lulled him to sleep late that night. In London town, he thought, where I was born. There was a young maid dwelling. And everyone said, 'Well-a-day, her name is Barbara Allen. Her name is Barbara Allen.'

Chapter Eighteen

Colonel Fitzwilliam had promised to visit Lizzy the following morning. Darcy had promised to visit too. But Mrs. De Bourgh wanted Darcy to play tennis with the general's niece who was already dressed and had a racket in hand. Darcy passed the commission on to Colonel Fitzwilliam by saying, "I don't play, but my cousin does." Catherine de Bourgh tried to tempt Darcy with the notion that the court at Rosings was a grass one to which Darcy said, "The colonel loves a grass court and he's brought his racket." The colonel had indeed brought his racket which was newly restrung.

He and the general's niece left for the court at nine and their game was well underway when Darcy rang the bell at the Collins'. Charlotte was not yet down and Collins was already out so Lizzy answered. What a sight. Greg Darcy without the colonel. Lizzy invited Darcy in and when initial inquiries about one another had been made Lizzy feared the conversation would sink into silence so she said, "How suddenly you and Jim Bingley quit the ward."

"Yes," said Darcy, "But, in our defense, we had originally planned to room at Riviera – only by the time Bingley inquired it didn't have two vacancies. So, when two arose, and in the same apartment, we thought it best to take them. Dr. Netherfield understands but the women in the house will never likely forgive us."

Lizzy longed to ask about Jane, and Bingley's feelings for her, but feared such questions would seem forward, so she said nothing more and thought it best to leave the work of finding a new subject to Darcy.

He eventually said, "Mr. Collins is lucky in his choice of a wife."

"Yes," answered Lizzy. "Charlotte has good sense and it, her talents, and her easy disposition have made for an excellent companion."

"And it must agree with her to be settled so close to her family."

"Yes," Lizzy said. "Her parents are only a day's drive away."

"Would you," he asked, "wish to settle near your family?"

"I shall," she said. "I'll be settled soon enough in Las Vegas."

When he wondered what she meant she added, "I have a job waiting for me when I graduate next spring."

He knew Lizzy planned to teach English so he asked, "Why not teach in Provo? Or Salt Lake? Your father lives there."

"And be a BYU groupie. It's bad enough I'm going home to Vegas. I envy the colonel's next posting. Paris! To see the world." Darcy realized that Lizzy now knew that in one month's time the colonel would be billeted in Paris, and knowing so made Darcy further realize that the colonel, who wanted a wife, and a wife who was Mormon, had fixed on Lizzy. As he had watched his cousin the previous night he sensed an interest on the colonel's part in Lizzy, which was now plain to see.

Perhaps it was Darcy's competitive nature which prompted what Darcy next said. But disregarding the reason, when Darcy's eye caught Charlotte's Gaynote sampler hanging above the mantle, after he read its cross stitched message out, and pointed to the home, also cross stitched, Darcy said, "Forget Paris. Home is best. But home in Salt Lake City. Teach there and live with your father."

As Charlotte came down, Lizzy answered, "Why should you care if I leave Utah?" She couldn't understand Darcy. She hadn't seen him for months. Yet he thought he had the right to govern her life. Was he bossy like his aunt? Lizzy greatly preferred his cousin's laissez faire attitude and chance to see the world.

When Darcy abruptly left Charlotte said, "He must be in love with you to visit so early in the day." But when Lizzie answered, "Our conversation was full of holes of silence," Charlotte recanted and both girls construed that Darcy had visited because of a general lack at Rosings of anything to do.

Lizzy welcomed the colonel late that morning. He had come armed with photographs and dimensions of possible pensions in the area around Paris. Which did Lizzy and Charlotte think he should choose? He prefaced his question by stating, "Women are better at choosing homes than men. So which do you two ladies think would provide the most comfort? Consider aesthetics though too?" Since he'd handed the pictures, which had the dimensions on the back, to Charlotte, she spread everything out then after she and Lizzy had looked at the backs and fronts, Charlotte said, "The proportions of the first apartment are grand."

"But," said Lizzie, as she picked one photograph up, "this one looks cozy."

"True," said Charlotte. "Fitzwilliam, is the area cold?"

He answered, "Compared to here all of Europe – in winter leastways – feels cold. I won't say their central heating is subpar. But you know how with the embargo even the president has turned down the White House thermostat? The Europeans did so before the war. And their idea of air conditioning is opening a window."

"Oh, like my stepmother's house in Salt Lake City. It's grand looking, but has no central air. Thank goodness we get the basement where it's cool."

When Darcy heard the preceding – evidently Fitzwilliam had come back armed with the ladies' comments and opinions – Darcy, in his mind anyway, declared war (war that is on his cousin's efforts to court Lizzy Bennet.)

The real purpose of Darcy's east coast visit was to view two law schools. The first, he and Fitzwilliam visited before their phone call to the de Bourgh's. To visit the second, Harvard, he would use the car he and Fitzwilliam had rented.

Now, determined to take Lizzy to Boston (instead of Fitzwilliam) Darcy stopped a second time at Hunsford, where he abruptly invited Lizzy by saying, "You wish to see the world? See America first. Let's start with Boston, the cradle of our revolution."

"Yes," said Lizzy. "I know. The shot heard round the world and all that. Only, wasn't that outside of Boston?"

Darcy ignored the technicality of her question and added, "The French," he said, "aped our revolution." This was a dig at Fitzwilliam and his posting near Paris.

But Lizzy did not realize this and said, "I hope ours was not as bloody. _Guillotine_ is a French, not an English word."

A pause ensued because Darcy didn't quite know how to advance his hand, but Charlotte, once again thinking he must be in love with her friend, said, "Oh go. I have nothing planned here."

Darcy said, "I don't mean to steal her away."

Charlotte said, "In truth, we've planned nothing."

"Save talking together," said Lizzy, "which I enjoy. And our trip to that thrift store."

Darcy laughed, "To entice you," he said, "what if I promise to take you to the Old Manse. It's not far away."

"Oh. The Old Manse." Lizzy had longed to see Hawthorne and his wife's first home. Perhaps because the writing one or both had done on the window panes with Sophia's diamond was legendary (legendary that is among those who studied literature, but probably not with anyone else.)

"Then it's decided," said Charlotte. "She's agreed."

"What kind of conspiracy is this?"

"A done one," said Darcy. "I'll call for you at 4 am tomorrow. Be ready for fun."

"With Darcy?" said Lizzy, once he was gone.

"Well," Charlotte said, "One never knows. His rental car is nice. It looks to be a living room on wheels to me – especially compared to Collins' Chevy."

To while their time in the late afternoon they returned to the PX where Lizzy bought another wrap dress – this time teal knit – for that same night.

When Mrs. de Bourgh heard of the arrangement – after Darcy left the room – she said to Darcy's cousin, "What kind of girl travels to Boston alone with a man?"

Fitzwilliam said, "It's only a day trip and one, no doubt, with too many ports of call to admit mischief."

Mrs. de Bourgh once again mentioned the lack of a chaperone and even hinted she might suggest to Collins that he and his wife accompany Lizzy and Darcy.

Since Colonel Fitzwilliam knew that Darcy would not appreciate the intrusion, he said as much before he added, "Lizzy Bennett is a good sort of girl. A devoted member of our church. And chaperones are out of date. And trust my judgment: Lizzy and Darcy are their own chaperones. Neither will do anything untoward. And don't suggest otherwise. If you mention anything when Lizzy and the Collins' arrive this evening," (Lizzy and the Collins's were visiting again that very evening for dinner and a screening of a movie, an old black and white), "it will hurt Lizzy, worry Collins, and absolutely insult Darcy." Colonel Fitzwilliam knew the last would stop Mrs. de Bourgh, and with the words _insult Darcy_ the latter vowed to say nothing.

The general liked movies about war especially about World War II. So, in honor of his interests (war) and those of her nephew Darcy's (Japan: where he had served his mission) Mrs. de Bourgh had asked that the base librarian choose then order a copy of a film titled: _The Ball at Anjo House_. (Rosings had a screening room and large projector.) _The Ball at Anjo House_ was a Japanese film set at the end of World War II, which told the story of the owner of a once great house and his family, all of which – because of the war – lay on the brink of ruin. The owner, a peer, had borrowed money from a war profiteer who intended to turn the house to a dance hall. The eldest daughter, now home from a bad marriage, had long been loved by the family's former chauffeur, who left when she had married a fellow peer. The poor man loved her and still did. Of course he was only poor now in spirit because he'd made money and in an honest way. The younger daughter, a realist who wanted the best for all concerned, had applied to the chauffeur to buy her father's house.

Lizzie watched and read subtitles with interest. The movie ended well. The eldest daughter, though proud, realized the chauffeur's devotion and perhaps her own love for him and ran after him through the sand. The father, a widower, acknowledged his longtime love for a geisha by marrying her. Then before he could take his life his youngest daughter, by referring to their courageous ancestor, a portrait of which was above them on the wall, convinced her father to live by saying doing so would be in keeping with their ancestor's wishes.

When Darcy, fluent in Japanese and therefore annoyed by the subtitles, asked, "Well, Miss Bennet, what did you think?"

Lizzy answered, "That it was a Japanese _Gone with the Wind_."

Darcy thought a moment then said, "Yes. In an understated way."

"And with variation. Sue Ellen is the oldest sister and the younger, the Scarlett, doesn't steal Sue Ellen's Mr. Kennedy to save Tara, but gets him to buy it for Sue Ellen. There's even a Belle Watling in the geisha."

Darcy said, "I am impressed. With your knowledge of _Gone with the Wind_, you rival my mom."

Mrs. de Bourgh saw that statement as sacrilege. Sacrilege because her sister would never have gone sans chaperone with a man to Boston.

Mrs. de Bourgh was crazy about propriety. Darcy supposed because she was quite a bit older than his mother. Plus, as his mother often said, "My sister Catherine's a prude. How she engaged the general is beyond me."

The others stayed up late to watch a second screening but with an early start ahead of them Lizzy and Darcy excused themselves to go to, not only separate bedrooms, but separate houses to sleep.

Chapter Nineteen

"Do you think?" said Lizzy, "as they looked for parking near Harvard's law school, "that Harvard renamed the town it was built in _Cambridge_ to compete with Cambridge, England?"

Darcy said, "My knowledge is not encyclopedic, but the town of Cambridge, named after Cambridge University, was founded in 1630 and Harvard was not established until 1636."

"That sounds," said Lizzy, "encyclopedic."

"It is," Darcy added. "I looked those facts up in _Britannica_ to be ready for my interview."

"Are you always so prepared?"

"I try to be." Next, quiet ensued while Darcy parallel parked.

To go back a few hours in time, the ride from Fort- to Cambridge had, at first been what Lizzy feared: lots of silence. Darcy had nothing to say and Lizzy soon tired of trying to make conversation. It seemed to her like everything she said sounded stupid. She felt so because Darcy made few replies. At that point in the morning it was dark, the traffic was light and the highway smooth, so Lizzie soon gave up trying to talk and with the motion of the car was quickly, as was generally the case when she was a child, lulled to sleep.

But matters changed several hours into the journey. Sometime before they approached the metropolitan area – the sun was now up – Darcy woke Lizzy after which he slid a map across the seat to her. As he slid it he said, "Can you read such a thing. My mom and sister claim they can't. But I hope you're better able. I've circled the interchange we have to take and the exit."

Lizzy spread the map out, oriented it, looked up at the exit signs they quickly passed, and pretty soon knew their location. To make conversation she gave Darcy a running, but spasmodic account of the important exits and a general idea as to how many miles were left before they switched from the highway they were on to the road which would take them to Cambridge.

Once on the grounds of Harvard, after Darcy parallel parked, the two looked for the building in which Darcy would interview. After parking, Darcy had taken a sport coat and tie from the trunk. The coat was navy blue, his trousers were tan, his tie conservative, and once he had put them on Lizzy said, "Your look is old-fashioned collegiate. There's nothing counter-culture about you."

Lizzy decided to leave Darcy to go to his interview alone. Her reason: "We were told in high school: don't take friends to interviews." Darcy wondered what Lizzie would do. Lizzie said, "Sit on this bench or, I saw some stores on our way in. I might walk to them and at least window shop. Don't worry. I'll return every half hour to the bench to see if you're here. That way neither of us will wait too long."

Darcy was relieved. He too observed the rule: don't take friends to interviews. So he had somewhat wondered how he could temporarily ditch Lizzy.

Had Lizzy known she would have felt offended, or rather further offended – as she found most of Darcy's treatment of her offensive. Because he didn't talk she felt he scorned her. And he and his family were obviously superior to her and hers financially and socially. Everyone from Caroline to Wickham said that the Darcy's were rich and that Greg Darcy's father was well placed and highly thought of in diplomatic circles. His uncle by marriage was a general, a cousin a colonel. He was most likely somehow in line for the British throne for all Lizzy knew. And yet, she thought, he does not follow that golden rule of etiquette: do not let silence fall.

To while her time away Lizzy went first to the Harvard Coop where she bought her brother Jeff a Harvard T-shirt. She returned to the bench, but Darcy had not yet arrived so she back tracked, this time to a bookstore she had seen. A sign above an outdoor sales rack that read: 59 cents each or 3 for a dollar forty-five had attracted her attention. She liked to read. So of course, at that price, she chose three. The first, critical essays about Hillaire Belloc, she bought because his poems made her laugh. The second, a novel (which turned out, as Darcy later said, to be by an ultra respected Japanese author), Lizzy bought because the first few pages also made her laugh. And the third she bought because it was a coup: a copy of _Mastering the Art of French Cooking _for the price of about fifty cents. When Darcy saw the collection, which happened much later in the day, he said, "What an eclectic collection," she took it as a compliment, which is how he meant it. What he left unsaid was his belief that she had chosen _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_ because Colonel Fitzwilliam was winning the fray. And yes, she had thought about the colonel and his posting in France as she had chosen _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_. But she felt romantic feelings for neither man.

When he was finished with his interview and both were back at the bench Lizzy said, "Don't you care to look around? I thought you planned to tour campus too?"

Darcy answered, "I did. But the rest of the day is for you. The dean's secretary drew this map. It leads straight to the Old Manse." Darcy held out a sheet of typing paper with lines inked on it. After Lizzy looked at it Darcy said, "When I asked her for directions the secretary for the dean asked, 'Are you a Hawthorne fan?' I said, 'no,' but the woman I'm traveling with is. You were back at the bench by then so I pointed you out at her request. One of her office windows lies directly above 'our' bench. She and my mother are alums of the same college: Smith. She thinks you're pretty and that I have good taste."

"My," Lizzy said, "you can be quite friendly when it suits you. Or," she added, "when you're with your kind."

Although he did not reply, Lizzy's acumen stung him. But not for long because she said what she'd said with the same smile and teasing manner which she said everything. Darcy was one to brood, but not Lizzy, and the rotaries the car had to maneuver quickly grabbed both of their attentions.

A rotary is a circular piece of road which other roads lead into and out of. And in metropolitan areas, with cars entering and exiting at high speeds, rotaries look and are treacherous. When they finished and were on the easy road which led to the Old Manse Lizzy said, "How did you accomplish such a thing?"

He said, "By not making eye contact. I decided ahead of time that if I looked oncoming drivers in the eye it might dissuade me – stare me to a stall. So I blindly forged ahead."

"Well done, but dangerous. Though it worked. Who tells small children to look both ways before they cross a street? Apparently doing so is outmoded."

Darcy realized again that Lizzy Bennet was smart and had wit.

The Old Manse had a fabled garden, fabled because it was planted by Thoreau as a wedding gift for Hawthorne and his bride. As Lizzy and Darcy looked it over Darcy said, "Tell me, Lizzy, do you like to garden?" Two reasons had prompted his question. One: she seemed to know the plants – the squash, peas, currants, cucumbers, corn, and string beans that Thoreau supposedly had planted. And two: he wanted to know if Lizzy was, like his mother, a gardener.

She answered, "Garden? Where I come from we call it yard work." He looked intently at her as she added, "In spring it's windy, summer's hot, fall and winter are okay, and by February – sometimes it's warm enough to water ski, if you don't mind the temporary shock of the chilly water. And I've seen roses bloom in December. But gardens like these don't exist in Las Vegas. Mulberry trees shade yards, there are plots of grass in front and back, maybe a brick planter with a few flowers, usually snapdragons. But in Las Vegas, gardening largely consists of mowing grass."

"Your job?" asked Darcy.

"No. Jeff's. Jane and I cook."

He asked, "Are you any good?"

She evaded answer by wondering, "Now what would you think if I asked you so personal a question?" He again looked intently at her then motioned her inside.

The front hallway in the Old Manse contained – instead of wall paper – a wall of small flowers – flowers that had been painted by Sophia, Hawthorne's wife. It had been done, claimed the docent, to mimic wallpaper, which the couple could not afford.

"It's beautiful," said Lizzy, "and the scale of the flowers is perfect for the space." Darcy said nothing as the docent moved them through the rooms the zenith of which was the upstairs room that Hawthorne had used as his study. Lizzy went straight to the writing done on the window panes by Sophia's diamond.

"What do you think?" said Darcy.

"It works."

He said, "What do you mean?"

"I had always heard that diamonds cut glass. Now I know it's true."

He said, "You wondered but never tried."

"With what?" she asked. "I own no diamonds." With that he realized she wore no jewelry, not even earrings as her ears were not pierced.

"You never borrowed your mother's?"

"You don't know my mom. I would never have risked ruining her ring to satisfy curiosity." After a pause Lizzy said, "With the afternoon sun coming through the window the words the Hawthorne's wrote sparkle, which is quite lovely. I wonder how big her diamond was to cut like this. It must not have been a chip." Again Darcy looked intently at her, but didn't answer her question. Lizzy supposed because he thought it silly. Instead he said, "We'd best be on the move. I want you home by curfew."

Once they had found and were gliding along the main thoroughfare Darcy turned the radio on, unfortunately to static. Consequently, he rolled the dial to find a station he liked. When he rolled past one playing "Moon River" Lizzy said, "Stop. Please. I like that song."

Darcy turned back, but once the song ended he asked, "Why? 'Moon River' is something my parents play."

"Mine too, Lizzy said. "But didn't you ever watch _The Andy Williams Show_ or an afternoon rerun of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_? Don't tell me you didn't have a TV?

Darcy said, "Of course we had television. But the song is still old-fashioned. Hardly popular today."

To continue to justify her request Lizzy quoted snatches from the song. First off she said, "As sentiments go, the line, 'Two drifters off to see the world,' could describe you and me. People in their twenties are off to see the world. And what about, 'We're after the same rainbow's end?' We might not entirely be, but are in part. And anyway, that we might be would be serendipitous. And a river of moonlight on a river of water is a fine illusion. 'Moon River' brings back such happy memories it makes me nostalgic."

Although Darcy liked what Lizzy was saying he said nothing as he found a station with rock music. Once found, both listened to it as they now drove, and since neither was sleepy both talked over the music so as not to let silence fall. His end of their conversation was by far the most Lizzy had yet heard Greg Darcy say.

When they stopped at a diner for dinner Lizzy learned a bit of Darcy's extended family history. For one, the general wasn't always a general. At the start of America's involvement in World War II the general had been drafted as a lieutenant into the Army Engineer Corps. As such he served in the Pacific with a supply detail, was so liked by his commanding officer that when that same officer became part of the occupying force in Japan, Lieutenant de Bourgh, now a captain, chose the army as a career. This was when his wife, Darcy's aunt Catherine, had physically joined him. They were already married but she of course had remained in the US during the war. But during the occupation she had joined her husband in Japan. "It was there," Darcy said, "that my aunt became accustomed to servants because in post-war Japan servants could be had for a song."

Lizzy wondered whether Darcy's mother was the same, but didn't see fit to ask. He then added, "The general is a self-made man whose parents were immigrants."

"Oh, like my mom. Her mother at least. She sailed at age four from Russia with her mother and father, the latter of which mined coal in Pennsylvania where he eventually died in a cave in. Where are General de Bourgh's ancestors from?"

"It's shameful," Darcy said, "but I do not know. You'll have to ask my mother." He again looked intently at her. But once they were back in the car he kept his eyes on the road, which was wise: he was unfamiliar with the territory and it was now dark.

Chapter Twenty

Though the days they had been in close proximity had been few, the young gentlemen at Rosings seemed to spend as much time singly or together with Lizzy as either could manage. Sometimes they came, as has already been said, together or, in the case of this morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam came alone. At other times Darcy did likewise.

Lizzy, because of the long day she had spent with Darcy in Boston, had only come down for breakfast thirty minutes before, and had now gone back upstairs in to dress. Consequently, Charlotte, who was dressed, answered the door after which she went upstairs to advise Lizzy of the colonel's arrival. While she waited for Lizzy to dress, she returned to the front room to keep Fitzwilliam company.

As the two visited, Charlotte thought, not about him, but of Darcy. Although she had dismissed it as early as the day before, she began again to wonder whether Greg had fallen in love with Lizzy. She felt the colonel was drawn to Lizzy too, but that Darcy eclipsed any effect the colonel might have – in Charlotte's mind anyway. A man of Darcy's stature, intelligence, and looks would always eclipse a man whose nature, like the colonel's, was not as assured. And the colonel, like Charlotte, wasn't handsome.

Charlotte couldn't quite explain why she thought Darcy was in love: his silences around Lizzy were pronounced. On the other hand, Darcy was silent around everyone. And then Darcy looked so often at Lizzy. Charlotte knew that when she had liked someone she had looked at him. Whether she'd wanted to or not, her eyes had often been drawn to the object of her interest. Darcy's glances, or sometimes outright stares, were not necessarily filled with noticeable affection. At times he looked fondly, or rather longingly at Lizzy. But whether looks of love, or simple idle gazing, he _did_ look at Lizzy Bennet often, and more often, he looked at her in an intent way. His gaze had purpose. But what purpose, Charlotte wondered? It was perplexing.

While they waited, Charlotte offered Fitzwilliam a cup of cocoa. He declined by saying, "I drank two before leaving Rosings, but thank you."

With the words _thank you_ Lizzy came down whereupon the colonel suggested a walk and the two set out together.

Rosings had a small park in which they generally walked, but whether the colonel wanted a different scene or simply wanted to be away from Rosings' eyes – those large dark windows out of which Mrs. de Bourgh sometimes peeped – even the colonel himself couldn't say. He simply suggested they walk another route. Perhaps to the small park the base had built for children. To this Lizzy agreed.

As they walked the colonel reminded Lizzy that he would shortly leave the country for his post in France. To this Lizzy said, "Which apartment did you choose? The one that's grand, or cozy?"

"On your advice I took the apartment that's cozy. Darcy advised the same. He said that in his travels around the world – Darcy has lived or visited abroad because of his parents – comfort outweighs grandeur."

Even though she agreed with Darcy she said, "Greg Darcy likes to have his way."

"Most of us do," answered the colonel. "Darcy is just better able to because he is confident and rich."

Lizzy was wondering about Darcy's sister, Georgiana – whether her nature matched her brother's and that of their aunt's. Darcy and Catherine de Bourgh were used to dictating and Lizzy wondered if Georgiana were the same?

As if he read her mind, the colonel mentioned Georgiana when he said, "Will you grant me a favor? I shall be lonely in France. And nothing offsets loneliness like letters. Darcy's sister Georgiana has promised to write. Will you promise to write too?"

Lizzy said, "Of course. I can't write to you about your cousin Darcy. We have only been thrown together of late here. But I'll tell you all the happenings in my corner of BYU."

"I should like that. I enjoyed my years there."

To fill the pause Lizzy asked, "When she graduates from high school will Darcy's sister attend BYU?"

"If Darcy has his way, which I'm certain he will. For Georgiana to grow up and attend BYU will ensure her safekeeping."

_Safekeeping_ sounded telling so Lizzie said, "Does she give Darcy and his parents trouble?"

Because he so quickly asked her why she supposed Georgiana would give her family trouble, Lizzie suspected she had hit on the truth. But to cover that belief Lizzy now said, "My question was idle. I've heard nothing but glowing reports about Georgiana's nature. It's simply that _safe_ and _keeping_ are unusual words. But as I think about it many a Mormon parent I suppose rightly believes that once a child has maneuvered high school and arrived at BYU the water is calmer. And that is true."

"Not always," said the colonel. "My cousin Darcy told me on our car ride here that he of late had to rescue Bingley, his great friend and roommate at BYU."

"From what?" Lizzy asked.

"An imprudent marriage, which you must admit can occur – especially at BYU with marriage so in the air."

Lizzy asked for particulars.

"Darcy gave none save there were some strong objections to the young woman herself."

When Lizzy had returned home the night before from her day with Darcy in Boston she had found a letter on her bed. She had supposed it had arrived in the post earlier that day and had been placed on the bed by Charlotte. Parts of this letter, which was from Jane, now came back to mind. In particular, the parts that showed that Jane was once again in poor spirits. In fact, it seemed to Lizzy that Jane had written because she was somewhat blue. And Lizzy knew the only reason Jane periodically felt blue was Bingley.

Lizzy was so angry and indignant that she thought it best to change the subject so she talked instead of trifles until they reached the playground, sat for a time on a bench, and returned to Hunsford, Tom and Charlotte Collins' bungalow.

Once there and safely in her room Lizzy thought: Greg Darcy, you have been the means of destroying the happiness of the gentlest, sweetest creature on earth. And what objections could you possibly have against someone as lovely and good hearted as my sister?

Lizzy started to cry and the tears, and anger she felt, soon gave her a headache – one so intractable that when the hour came that she should accompany Collins and Charlotte to Rosings for yet another evening of entertainment she declined. Charlotte did not press and though Collins wanted to, Charlotte kept him at bay.

Chapter Twenty-one

With Charlotte and Tom Collins gone Lizzy reviewed what she believed to be Jane's state of mind. As she went downstairs in the Collins' bungalow she remembered that Jane was not one to complain. But, even though Lizzy had not heard Jane say words to this effect, ever since Bingley's removal Jane had not evidenced her usual happy disposition. Jane had always been sunny and serene. Her mind was at ease. She was kindly disposed toward others – guileless – and thought the best of everyone whether he deserved it or not. As Lizzy thought what Jane had lost – her peace of mind – and all because of Darcy's interference, the fact that Lizzy would leave Fort- in 2 days time appealed to her. She longed to be with Jane again and aid in Jane's recovery.

Deep in thought over these matters and due to the lateness of the hour – it was now 8pm, the hour at which dinner at Rosings was served – the sound of the doorbell jarred her. She answered the door and to her surprise Darcy entered the room. He asked about her headache and before she could answer Darcy expressed his hope that her headache had abated.

Though she longed to criticize Darcy over what he had done to Jane, Lizzy kept her tongue and managed to be civil. He sat – but restlessly and after gazing at everything but nothing in particular Darcy stood, walked to the mantle and faced it then placed his left arm on it. Afterwards he turned his face and right shoulder back toward her, lowered his head and said, "May I tell you how completely I love you."

Lizzy, who was sitting, looked up, stared, and blushed. Darcy took both her stare, which he considered a gaze and one of longing and the heightened color in her face as encouragement. So he continued by saying that he had loved her long before now. "From," Darcy said, "almost the moment we met. I still think of you with those Swedish fish and that slender, white paper bag."

Had he stopped, Lizzy's anger, in spite of the sorrow he had caused Jane, might have lessened. But his pride and his belief she would accept whatever he proposed led him to say, "I have struggled in vain against obstacles – in the main your parents and, well, to be honest, their divorce. I have thought often of my mother's words about the children of a couple in our ward that divorced. My mother claimed it made their daughter cynical and their son less devoted to our religion." Darcy paused. He did not call Lizzy inferior but his words and the way he held his head – bowed as he had spoken of love but held high now as he termed her family an obstacle – wounded Lizzy.

In this present moment, had he stopped, she might have felt pity over what she knew she must do: refuse him. But Darcy continued to recount how difficult – no, impossible it had been for him to overcome his love for her.

"Despite the misgivings I have about asking," said Darcy, "will you be my wife?"

Lizzy looked off, then back, then said, "It is customary, I think, to thank a suitor for the compliment made, and if I felt so complimented I would. But I have never wanted your good opinion and you have given it harshly – unwillingly."

Darcy heard her words with resentment and surprise and his complexion colored with anger.

"Am I," he said, "to receive no reason as to why I'm rejected? And with, on your part, no attempt at politeness?"

"I might as well ask," Lizzy now said, "why you have rudely insulted me by stating you like me against your will, against your reason, even against your prized integrity? Did your behavior not give me reason to act much the same? But I have other reasons for refusing you. Darcy, you have been the means of ruining the happiness of my beloved sister. No motive can excuse your actions there. Were you not the agent who divided Jane and Bingley? How unkindly you acted there. You made my sister an object of your censure and ruined Bingley's hope, for I believe he cares for Jane."

He tranquilly said, "I do not deny that I did all I could to separate Bingley and Jane. Toward him I have been smarter than toward myself."

He looked so smug Lizzy said, "But my dislike of you is founded on even more. Long before you separated my sister from Bingley I learned that you had been the means of George Wickham's misfortune, misfortune heaped on him on top of the deaths of his parents.

"His misfortunes," Darcy said with a tone that implied the opposite, "have been great indeed."

"And because of you," said Lizzy with energy, "he's had to make his way. You meddled in your parents' promise to his, and yet you can talk of his misfortunes with ridicule?"

"And this," said Darcy as he walked across the room, "is your opinion of me. My faults by your calculation are grave indeed but perhaps," said he as he turned to her, "all might have been forgiven if I had not hurt your pride with my honesty. I might have concealed my struggles and flattered you by not recognizing the inferiority of your connections."

She said, "Inferiority of my connections? We live in the 20th century, Darcy. Who thinks about connections? Though, that aside, you could not have made your offer in any manner which would have tempted me. From the moment we met I was convinced of your arrogance, your conceit, and of your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. I had not known you a moment before I felt you were the last person on earth I would marry. And," she said, "as to disparity in rank, my parents are equal to yours. I venture to guess my father is as great a gentleman as yours and my mother a lady like your own."

Darcy excused himself by saying, "I wish you great happiness." After he left, Lizzie cried for an hour. With the moments that passed her surprise increased. That he should love her was incredible. Her pride was vaunted. But his and what he'd done to Jane and Wickham was inexcusable and cruel. She continued to think of the matter until she heard the Collins' approach. At the sound of Mr. Collins' voice – recounting again Mrs. de Bourgh's beneficence – Lizzy retreated to her room. She could not face Collins tonight – nor even Charlotte, as dear as she was.

Chapter Twenty-two

Lizzy – unlike Charlotte – was dressed for the day. For this reason, when Charlotte discovered she was out of milk, she sent Lizzy for some. Lizzy had hardly left the house when Greg Darcy, who seemed to have been waiting, appeared with a letter in hand. Without speaking to her Darcy handed Lizzy the letter then disappeared. Because she did not wish to read the letter until alone in her room Lizzy put it in her purse, walked to the small market, bought the milk, returned it to Charlotte, excused herself and went to her room upstairs.

She opened the letter. It read: _Rest easy. In this letter I will not repeat last evening's declarations, nor proposal. It is written instead to answer the charges you have laid at my feet. Yes. I did separate your sister and Bingley. I had not been around Bingley long before I recognized that he loved her. So when the two were together I observed them. Bingley is my friend, and one I know from past experience, who falls easily in and out of love. And because he is so friendly sometimes he can be misled. Not that I felt your sister was conniving. You are both too honest to stoop to the arts which some women use. But in watching your sister – you say now she loved Bingley and who better to judge than you – but I did not apply to you, nor why would I? Instead, I observed both when both were together. And Jane was so serene – implacable even – that I felt her heart had not been touched. She seemed, to me anyway, to look at Bingley no differently than she looked at other men. For instance, on the night we went to the ballet you – and you as I now know – despised me, periodically looked my way. Jane, though, never looked beyond the stage. Not once did she look at Bingley._

_It is true. I had Caroline, his sister's help, in detaching Bingley. She found the connection undesirable too – felt Bingley could – as the saying goes – do better, find a better mate for himself. You must admit, while you, Jane, and Jeff behave impeccably, your sister Lydia and your stepmother at times want propriety. At least both say ungracious things and sadly, both seem conniving, which again is a charge I cannot lay at yours nor Jane's feet. As to your parents' divorce, which fueled my reluctance – I must now agree with Mrs. Bingley who, when Caroline speculated as to the reason for it, said, "When we are single we see marriage through blind eyes and it's not until we are married that we recognize the challenges marriage brings. Even the Bennet children do not know why the Bennet's divorced. So let us not conjecture nor throw stones. Someday, Caroline, you might find yourself in the original Mrs. Bennet's shoes. Several of my friends – good Mormon women – have lately found themselves in similar straits. And they hardly know what happened."_

Lizzy wished she could talk to Mrs. Bingley, whose compassion and disinterest were appealing. Lizzy's own relations were well-meaning, but took sides. In the main, Lizzy's father's family spoke ill of Lizzy's mother and vice versa. One hardly knew where to turn for comfort.

The next section of Darcy's letter said: _As to Wickham, you yourself may have had peers like Wickham. You notice, I do not call Wickham a friend. To adults, people like Wickham make themselves beyond reproach. But at school, and especially school parties, their vices appear. Wickham had a habit, and his parents – with a generous allowance, extra cash, items of theirs Wickham pawned – unwittingly fed it. When his parents died he quickly went through their insurance after which he applied to my parents for assistance. Would they pay his tuition, meal ticket, rent, books? He was about to become a freshman at BYU as was I. They agreed. They honored their promise to their dear friends, Wickham's parents. I did not tell my parents they were fools. Their kindness was beyond reproach and I hoped BYU would help Wickham mend his ways. And I believe it now has. However, during Christmas break of that freshman year when George Wickham went after my sister in his schemes, and I learned it from a mutual friend, I told my parents. Here are the details of his scheme. Georgiana was barely fourteen when Wickham suggested a lark together in Mexico. His plan: to make my sister his mule. My parents foiled it by flying Georgiana to their posting. And yes after such treachery on his part, they did stop his allowance, but only at the end of his first year which gave him ample warning. And he did foist what he calls calamity onto himself. Again, I hope he has reformed. You need not avoid Rosings. I leave today for Provo and also leave my best wishes for your happiness. Greg Darcy._

Chapter Twenty-three

During her final days with Charlotte and on her plane ride home, Lizzy wrestled with the contents of Darcy's letter. She decided against telling Jane about the part Darcy had played in Bingley's separation. For as she thought, suppose Bingley had now lost interest, and if he had not, how would anyone know? And if Bingley was – as it seemed – so easily led by a friend and a sister, so be it. Lizzy would not stoop to Darcy and Caroline's maneuvers. She would not play God. And she imputed selfishness to the pair. She believed now that Caroline had sensed Darcy's interest and sought to remove him and what better place than in Caroline's ward. Once they were developed, Lizzy did share photos of Charlotte, Collins, and the de Bourghs with Jane, Cindy King and their other roommates, but she hid the pictures of Darcy and Fitzwilliam in a further effort to spare Jane's feelings.

As she thought further about it, Lizzy supposed some of Darcy's interest in separating Bingley from Jane was self interest. Students usually became friends with someone their freshman year and during the following became roommates off campus. Lizzy had heard plenty a female friend feel at a loss as to whom to room with next when that close friend married. Not everyone in an apartment was a friend. So she supposed Darcy – as aloof as he was – may not have wished to fish for a new roommate because a friend had wed.

She felt Darcy should be honest with Bingley and now that he knew of Jane's regard for Bingley ought to let Bingley know. And if Bingley still felt what he had once felt for Jane, Bingley could call on the phone or in person. Neither of which occurred so Lizzy was glad she'd said nothing to Jane.

Wickham was another matter. On the plane home from Charlotte's she decided to tell Cindy King. Only Wickham arrived at the door of their apartment almost with Lizzy, so Lizzy lacked time and opportunity. In the end this did not matter. After Wickham left, Cindy King said, "I'm grateful he's gone. When I went home and mentioned him and particulars – the timing of his interest and so forth, my father said, 'Wickham sounds like an opportunist to me.' Plus, a friend from high school – newly returned from his mission in Costa Rica – seems attracted to me. We dated each night while at home and in fact drove to Provo together. He has a car and we have another date this Friday."

In light of this information Lizzy decided not to say anything about Wickham. And although she disliked Greg Darcy and believed what Wickham had tried to do to Georgiana was perfidious, she hoped like Darcy that Wickham had reformed. And again, as the object of gossip herself, Lizzy generally avoided the practice. If she could keep from spreading tales – whether true or false – she would.

And anyway, the end of the year was upon them. Lizzy and Jane had finals to study for, Lizzy had papers to write, and both sisters had to pack up, clean the apartment and move home – just for the summer. Both would return in the fall. But their spaces were being rented to others during summer term.

The two had a friend from home with another "new" car who had offered the two sisters and Jeff spots in it. Julia, their friend from home, drove a succession of used and not entirely working cars, which the Bennet's sometimes found transport in. At one time Julia'd had a Volkswagen in which the heater constantly ran. Which was okay for winter in Provo, but getting out of Las Vegas in it in August was stifling. Julia's father bought cars at auction and sort of fixed them up. After the no-turning-the-heater-off Volkswagen another Volkswagen appeared. Its top speed of forty was all right for Provo but going home to Las Vegas in it took hours. Julia assured them that her new car, a used Firebird, was fast. The Bennet's and Julia were out of money. For two weeks now the four had, instead of washing, stuffed their laundry into grocery sacks. The machines in the apartment complexes the four lived in were coin operated; all four were going home; so no sense using money each didn't have on laundry when they could go home and use the machines in their houses for free. Between them they had enough for gas. The car was filled when the four left Provo; and would need filling again one time on the way home. The four had money for this.

Early on in the journey Julia said, "Who wants to take the Milford run?" They all did. It was a back way and one not heavily patrolled by police from little towns that made a living by arresting students who exceeded the 55mph speed limit.

In Milford they pulled in for a fill up. A young boy – perhaps his father owned the station – stuck a gas hose in and while it pumped checked the oil. The dipstick came up empty. The car needed quarts. After paying for the gas, though, there was a little change left, but not enough to entirely cover the cost of the oil. The young man who had pumped the gas let it go – gave them part of the oil for free. Julia said, "Please don't tell my dad. All that time I was running around in Provo I never checked the oil. Nor did I ask that it be checked. My dad thinks I'm profligate with cars, and so I am. No wonder he gives me dogs. He must know I'd wreck anything better."

The subject of Wickham and whether or not to tell again soon arose. Wickham, now a graduate of BYU's law school, was in Las Vegas clerking for a district court judge. He attended the Bennet's ward because he had rented a studio apartment in it.

Of course from the time Wickham had spent trying to ingratiate himself with the newly minted heiress Cindy King, Wickham knew Lizzy intended to visit the Collin's at Fort-, which would put her in proximity to Catherine de Bourgh, Darcy's aunt. That Darcy had been there too had only been learned of late by Wickham (from a slip of Lizzy's tongue).

Lydia had a new boyfriend. Cindy King had turned Wickham aside and such were the reasons or so Lizzy supposed Wickham now turned to Lizzy. "He actually asked me out," said Lizzy to Jane. Wise now to his nature, Lizzy refused. When he mentioned Darcy – Lizzy supposed because in part he wished to recount grievances against him – Lizzy said, "Darcy improves with time."

Wickham tried – Lizzy thought – to ask whether she and Darcy were involved romantically. Because she thought to deny or affirm would suggest such was the case she changed the subject.

"Which judge," she said, "are you the clerk for?" He gave the name. "And do you intend," she said, "to make Las Vegas a home?"

He indicated that he would if he passed the Nevada bar; the exam was in July and his job would continue whether he passed or not. But if he passed he would try to get on with the Public Defender and would have a good chance of it because the attorney who headed the office was a man in their ward.

Wickham soon took up with a girl in their ward who, like Lizzy, Jane, and Jeff was home for summer from BYU. So since Wickham was not a part of Lydia's life Lizzy saw no need to warn Lydia – not that Lydia heeded warnings. Nor did she heed their mother. Lizzy decided against telling anyone about her prejudice which had led her to misjudge both men. And she decided not to tell Jane about Darcy's proposal because she thought that to do so would bring Bingley and that sour end to mind.

The Bennet children had jobs that summer. Jeff worked at a bank. Lydia had a two month temp job at House of Fabrics in the mall. (her sisters appreciated her employee discount.) Jane had landed a three month job as a cashier at the Power Company – her boss was a mean woman named Marjorie. And Lizzy had managed to find a 7 week job as a temp at the telephone company. Every hour, she ran messages up and down the steps between the twelve floors at said company. What shape she was in. She had already lost four pounds when her aunt Ava Gardiner called and asked her to visit in Santa Monica – once Lizzy's summer job ended.

As Aunt Ava always insisted, "I am not **that** Ava Gardner. My name has an "i" in it. It's Gard**i**ner."

Aunt Ava's spouse, Dick Gardiner, worked for the FBI. Lizzy found it funny that FBI agents were culled from men who were attorneys or accountants. In the case of Uncle Dick, it was the last. When she asked her dad why this was so her dad had said, "I suppose, Lizzy, because the FBI deals with white collar crime." Regardless of the reasons for the FBI's hiring -practices, her Uncle Dick, the one-time accountant, was slated to testify in Chicago which is why Aunt Ava called. Would Lizzy like to come and stay and keep her company during the first 3 weeks of August? "My daughters," said Aunt Ava, "will be away too – at Idlewyld Summer Camp." Of course Lizzy wanted to stay. Her job would have ended. And Aunt Ava, like Lizzy's sister Jane, was kind, sweet tempered, pretty – even at her age (she was 41) – and lots of fun. Aunt Ava liked to play Scrabble which was Lizzy's game – so the two would likely duke it out each night. Lizzy looked forward to August with anticipation.

Chapter Twenty-four

Lizzy took the bus, not to Santa Monica – there's no station there – but to Los Angeles. Even though she had given her aunt an arrival time, since buses were notoriously late, her aunt was to wait until Lizzy called, which she would do upon her arrival. After calling, Lizzy waited approximately half an hour before her aunt arrived in what Lizzy could see was a new Chrysler.

Aunt Ava had planned an evening of – what else – Scrabble! And the two _did_ begin to play. But Lizzy couldn't concentrate largely because she longed to tell Aunt Ava about Darcy's proposal, and Bingley's interest in Jane, and what Darcy and Bingley's sister had done to seemingly destroy that interest. Lizzy also longed to tell Aunt Ava about Jane's new found sadness. She also wanted to ask about Wickham because she knew Wickham had ties to Santa Monica. So did Darcy.

Eventually, Lizzy mentioned Darcy and Wickham to her aunt, upon which Aunt Ava said, "There are two wards in Santa Monica. Wickham lived in mine. But the Darcy's live in the other. It's adjacent and more affluent. Montana," Aunt Ava said, "is the dividing line. If one lives above Montana, one is in the other ward, and it truly is more affluent. If someone above Montana sells a house, it will sell for forty percent more. Your uncle thinks we should have bought there."

When her uncle had been assigned to Santa Monica by the FBI, he and her aunt had chosen a bungalow below Montana which, doing most of the work themselves, they had enlarged. Her aunt and uncle were not social climbers so Lizzy could not imagine why they would wish to be in the more affluent ward.

"Because," Aunt Ava said, "Uncle Dick expects to be promoted to head an office somewhere and knows it won't be here. We'll sell up and move on, so the added money we would have made had we bought on the right side of the tracks would come in handy – with college tuition facing us and perhaps even missions for our girls. With three daughters, money's always nice. Weddings are so costly."

The subject of marriage opened the dam. Lizzy let it out: Darcy's disdain which masked his love; Bingley's love, which Lizzy supposed, had turned now to disinterest. She even asked questions about Wickham and Georgiana. But about them Lizzy kept the questions general so as not to allude to the side of Wickham that Darcy knew. Nor to allude to the scrape into which Wickham had almost lured Darcy's sister.

"The Darcy's," Aunt Ava said, "are rarely at home – only for brief visits as they're always posted abroad. Mr. Darcy's sister, who is quite young, but unmarried and unflinching when it comes to propriety, lives with Georgiana – or so I hear. She keeps house and functions with Greg Darcy as joint guardian to Georgiana. As I understand it, both parents come from money and the house, though only inhabited for most of the year by Georgiana and her aunt, is imposing: many bedrooms and public rooms. When our stake has its annual music night, it is always held at the Darcy's house because it has of all things, a ballroom."

Even though her aunt did not know Darcy by sight she took Darcy's side against what Lizzy called Darcy's proud nature by saying, "He, most likely, has every right to be proud. And not only because of his parents' money. I understand he is quite like his dad. And according to Uncle Dick the senior Mr. Darcy has a character above reproach. As an old family, they are sticklers for protocol, which seems silly today, anachronistic. But there's something to be said for old ways. According to Dick, too many people move in under a guise of respectability then use it to swindle others."

Aunt Ava was full of sympathy for Jane's sadness, but had none for Bingley whom she felt had been too easily swayed. "Jim Bingley's sister," she said, "sounds awful. When I attended BYU, I knew women like her. Mean girls. I can see why you want to avoid her. But are you certain you ought to have turned Darcy down?"

"Quite certain," And even though Lizzy recounted his insults Aunt Ava still wondered,

"Sometimes," she said, "insults equal love. Think of the old days when little boys would put the pigtails of little girls they loved into the inkwell. Doing so was a sure sign of affection."

"Aunt Ava," Lizzy asked, "are you that old?"

"Well," said Aunt Ava, "the desks in the classrooms in the schools in Las Vegas did have depressions for inkwells, which were no longer used."

"So what you say," said Lizzy, "Is hearsay?"

"Yes, but hearsay from your Grandmother Bennet."

"Oh, well," said Lizzy, "If it comes from her, it must be true." Ava was Lizzy's father's youngest sister.

The two talked to such length the game was stalled. So, the following morning they sat at the Scrabble board again to finish. Aunt Ava had just laid down _sundry_, which gave Lizzy the "u" she needed to make _quandary_ when the phone rang. It was an old woman in the ward who could no longer see to drive who needed something taken to, of all places, the Darcy's.

When Aunt Ava said, "Let's go. You'll like the house," Lizzy answered,

"What if Greg is there?"

"I see." To insure he wasn't her aunt called and spoke to Darcy's aunt who said, "No one's home but me. Georgiana flew to Salt Lake two days ago to stay with Greg at his friends' the Bingley's. And both will not fly home until Thanksgiving. So, no, you won't intrude. Frankly, I would like some company. Would you and your niece care to see the house?" She gave Aunt Ava no time to reply because she quickly added, "I'll show you around when you come."

The family lived on Pemberly Lane which was long and winding and the several houses that sat on it sat on large amounts of land. Each lot was probably three acres. The home, a large Tudor, as opposed to the Collin's small one, spread out for a good acre. Whoever had built the two story structure had placed it close to the front curb – not close enough to disallow an attractive approach. But close enough to create what Lizzy realized, once she was shown to it, was a huge backyard. But long before she took them to the backyard, Darcy's aunt showed Lizzy and hers through the inside of the house. It contained, as did the house of Mrs. Darcy's sister, (Mrs. Catherine de Bough) objects of interest from around the world. The furnishings were, unlike Mrs. De Bourgh's, not ostentatious. And it was all arranged with comfort in mind. Lizzy particularly noticed photos of Greg Darcy from younger years. He looked well-liked. One, in particular, gave her this impression. It was of Greg, trophy in hand, being carried on the shoulders of teammates. She had not yet visited her aunt's ward, but the picture's background looked suspiciously like an LDS chapel's cultural hall cum basketball court.

Darcy's maiden aunt said, "Let's visit the garden, which is the work of my brother's wife. Of course as she is so often absent, she cannot maintain her yard. But long ago she laid it out, and any changes, which are rare, come from her actual plan. Which when she's here and can she implements. My sister-in-law loves gardening. And her son is always good about doing what he can when he is home."

A round topped back door led out to said garden. "Which is divided into outdoor rooms," said Darcy's aunt. One outdoor room was walled in by an evergreen hedge so tall it contained an opening, an arch which one could walk through. Because the maiden aunt and Lizzy's were lagging behind and talking, Lizzy had been the first to return through the arch which led to the path which led back to the house. As she passed through said arch, who should appear except Darcy? Surprised at the sight of each other, both started then blushed. Darcy's maiden aunt, who came through next, was equally surprised but pleased. Again, she had understood Georgiana to say that neither would return home until Thanksgiving. Though BYU's fall semester would not begin for three weeks, the Bingley family was hosting Georgiana and Darcy until their respective apartments were ready. Darcy would return with Bingley and Caroline to Riviera Apartments, and Georgiana would, like all freshmen, begin her years at BYU in a dorm.

The maiden aunt said, "What changed your plan?"

"Caroline Bingley," said Darcy, "wanted to see the beach, so Caroline and Georgiana talked us into the trip – a road trip. We borrowed Mrs. Bingley's car."

Lizzy, out of embarrassment, walked away and her aunt, embarrassed for her, followed. But both heard the maiden aunt say, "Where are the others?"

Darcy answered, "I dropped them off at a shoe store Caroline saw on the way and am to return for them presently. I wished to come ahead and give you warning."

Before his aunt could say, "Let me show my visitors out," Darcy caught up with Lizzy and Aunt Ava and was truly friendly. He asked to be introduced after which he invited Lizzy and her aunt to return at 7pm, "For what I'm not sure. But we'll do something entertaining. Catch up at least. How are your parents and Lydia, Jeff and Jane?"

When they were in the seclusion of the car, Aunt Ava said, "Disdainful? Greg Darcy is friendly to a fault."

"Yes. So it seems." Lizzy was left to wonder about the change in his demeanor. And it seemed extraordinary to her that he would ask after her family. What might it mean?

Chapter Twenty-five

Now that Lizzy knew that Caroline's jabs at her stemmed from envy, she felt Caroline would not welcome her and wondered how Caroline would treat her, knowing she was there as Darcy's guest.

Darcy himself opened the door and showed Lizzy and her aunt into the room where his guests had gathered. Aunt Ava had met no one save Darcy and his aunt, so Darcy introduced his guests to her after which he said, "Lizzy, you need introduction to no one except my sister who has for some time longed to meet you." As he introduced his sister Lizzy could see why a predator like Wickham would have sway. Georgiana, like Caroline, was not as handsome as her brother. She was not plain like Charlotte, but the clothes she wore – stylish and expensive – did more to call attention to her than her facial features which, very like the nieces of the Netherfield's, were too aristocratic to be called truly beautiful. She was tall and thin which helped her clothes do their work. But she was shy. And Lizzy at once recognized that this very shyness, coupled with the fact that Georgiana was not a beauty, made Lizzy further realize how a handsome man like George Wickham could hold sway.

After introductions were through Caroline, under the guise of catching up on old times, said, "Is your stepmother still dancing the hustle? And Lydia, your sister, still running wild in Sin City – with or without George Wickham?"

As Lizzy answered, "Since it's summer we're all running wild in Las Vegas," her Aunt Ava engaged Caroline in what Aunt Ava believed would be Caroline's favorite topic, herself. This left Lizzy free to speak to Darcy, Bingley and, if Georgiana could work her courage up, Georgiana too.

As she looked from face to face Lizzy felt that Georgiana's color had heightened with mention of George Wickham's name. Darcy's too. Lizzy's collected behavior – first she asked Georgiana the name of the dorm where Georgiana would live. Her answer, "A. Richards Hall," brought Lizzy's helpful response, "My old dorm too. What a coincidence." After the two talked a moment about dorms, Georgiana expressed her fear. It was that her roommates were strangers to her. Lizzy hoped she allayed it by saying, "I too knew no one. My sister Jane, who's a year older, was already off campus. So I roomed with what I thought would be strangers. But by the first evening we were old friends." Lizzy said, "Darcy, where did you room your first year?"

Darcy answered, "At DT, which is where Bingley and I met."

"My brother," Lizzie said, "roomed at Helaman Halls."

"Home," Darcy added, "to Cancer Center."

Lizzy laughed because "Cancer Center" was a student twist on Cannon Center, the Helaman Halls complex dining commons.

Lizzy said, "I avoided Cancer Center by living at A. Richards." This was because A. Richards – like all the halls in Heritage – consisted of apartments with kitchens. "Some of my roommates," she added, "could really cook."

This hit a nerve because Georgiana was little used to cooking.

"You'll learn," said her aunt, "out of sheer need."

"Yes," Lizzy said, "and roommates who can, will teach you. The girls who live at Heritage Halls are friendly. And I don't remember any of them being snobs." As she had discerned by now Georgiana was not a snob. For one, she was too shy to be and two, her nature was very sweet.

After everyone had settled in, the aunt, Georgiana, and Darcy excused themselves to go to the kitchen for food. The other ladies and even Bingley offered to help but Darcy said, "You are our guests."

The three returned with junk food of which Darcy said, "Aunt Beth wanted us to serve something nutritious, but I said, 'We don't want that junk. We want real food: chips, soda.' The ice cream's coming out later." Caroline broke free of Aunt Ava long enough to say,

"Oh, nothing that will help the swimming suit factor. Tomorrow's the beach."

Darcy now said, "Mrs. Gardiner, will you let us steal Lizzy away – at least part of the day – for the beach?"

Aunt Ava, who when it came to Darcy, thought Lizzie should promote rather than avoid the connection, agreed. As she did, she saw Caroline's eyes flash with irritation. Further determined not to let Caroline harm Lizzy, Aunt Ava redoubled her efforts to keep Caroline engaged and out of Darcy and Lizzy's way.

During the evening, which ended with the group watching TV, Lizzy wondered whether Jim Bingley still had feelings for Jane. His former friendliness seemed to be gone. Just like Jane's happiness. This made Lizzy think they were connected. But of course she had no way of knowing.

Once Aunt Ava and Lizzy left, Caroline attacked Lizzy's looks. She said, "Lizzy Bennet is not a pretty girl." She went into particulars. "Her eyes, Darcy, which you once called fine, have a hard glint. Her hair is lank, her face is long, and as to any style or fashion, both are lacking. What was it you said she was? Tolerable?"

In answer to Caroline Darcy said, "Tolerable? I now consider Lizzy Bennet the finest woman I know."

This further annoyed Caroline so she went to bed.

Darcy, Bingley, Caroline and Georgiana picked Lizzy up early for their day at the beach.

"Thank goodness," Lizzy had said to Aunt Ava when they had reached her house the night before, "I packed a swimming suit. Not my favorite by all means. But it will do."

As the five ran in the waves, built sandcastles, sat or laid on towels or picked up sand dollars here or there, Darcy thought how pretty Lizzy was. With her blond hair, which had grown even longer now, she looked like a California girl.

When a surfer appeared in the distance Lizzy asked, "Darcy, do you surf?"

Darcy answered, "I have."

When Lizzy asked, "Why not today?"

Darcy answered, "I would have to have tied the board on top of Bingley's car, and might well have had we not bumped into each other at my parents' house. But since we did, I want to spend our time together."

The old Darcy would have brought his board – like his textbook the night they met – and not said a word. But the new Darcy, remarkably like the Darcy in the photographs in his parents' house, talked freely and from all appearances held no grudge against Lizzy for the harsh words she had spoken to him when the two had met at Fort-.

This time Bingley brought a book and hardly looked up from it. Caroline tried to tempt Darcy away by many means, "Darcy, will you put lotion on my back?"

"Your brother can."

"Oh, no. The grease will stain the pages of his book."

"Let Georgiana then." Georgiana agreed.

Next it was questions about sand castles. Caroline was trying to make a replica of Darcy's house on Pemberly, but couldn't remember – "Is the roof mansard?"

"No. But make it mansard if you'd like."

Caroline was bored. She assumed she would have Darcy to herself. All was thwarted.

As the lowering sun began to glisten on the waves, Darcy asked Lizzy her plans for the following day. She said, "I promised to help Aunt Ava – at least in the morning. She is her ward's emergency preparedness coordinator, and since I've joked about the position, has drawn me in to help her first thing in the morning. We will tape a map of the city up to a wall in her laundry room, cut an extra ward directory up into slips, each slip with a family's name address and phone number on it, then tape the slips up where they belong on the map. Plus, I'm going to type a revised telephone tree."

"What's a telephone tree?" asked Darcy.

"An extraordinary tool Relief Society Presidents use. When my aunt was Relief Society President she used one. So of course she now wants to implement the tree, but instead for disaster management." When Darcy asked how a telephone tree worked Lizzie said, "A handful of names exist at the top. Under each are 5 or 6 more, and under those yet more. So, if something dire occurs my aunt calls the handful of names at the top, those at the top call those beneath, and in no time word is spread."

Darcy said, "In case of an earthquake phone lines may be dead."

"Which is why the tree will be revised. Those at the top of the new tree will now be responsible for those with in walking distance. And no one will be responsible for alerting or checking on anyone who is too far away."

Darcy and company would be leaving the first thing that following morning – the morning on which Lizzy planned to help her aunt type the revised telephone tree etcetera. Darcy wished to see Lizzy again so he asked if he might call in person. "It will be early. But it sounds as if you'll be up."

She agreed and he also asked if he could call on her once both were back in Provo.

She agreed and was beginning to look forward to his call. He was no longer the last person on earth she'd want to marry.

That very evening Lizzy called home to get the news which was: Lydia's flame had broken off with her. Jane, who'd answered the phone, seemed sad as she talked about toiling away at Nevada Power. The only thing that Jane talked about with any energy was her boss and how mean she was. "Today," Jane said, "Marjorie said, 'Lisa Jackson's on drugs.' Lisa is a young woman who works in an area adjacent and visible to the area I work in but someone Marjorie does not manage. She is so mean I said 'How can you say such a thing?' To this Marjorie answered, 'See for yourself. She's in the next room waiting for an ambulance.' Much to my disappointment—she did look under the influence. What a mean-spirited creature Marjorie is."

Because of Jane's in general air of sadness Lizzy said nothing about Darcy, Caroline, Georgiana, and especially Bingley.

Though, later in the evening, she did talk freely of Darcy to Aunt Ava as the two played Scrabble. "He is a changed man. None of his former hauteur."

The following morning Darcy came alone and early. No surprise there. It was what he had said he would do. But when the phone rang at 7:30 am and her aunt called her to it and Lizzy's mother was on – this surprised Lizzy. First, because it was early and second, because her mother rarely called.

When she got off the phone Lizzy said, "Lydia's disappeared. She left a note for Jane saying, 'You will laugh when you hear.' I must return at once."

Since Las Vegas was on their route to Provo, Darcy offered a spot in Bingley's car, which was refused, "My mother," said Lizzy, "wants me home and has already purchased a ticket on a flight out of LAX." Of course, Aunt Ava offered to drive her.

Chapter Twenty-six

Aunt Ava, on the advice of her husband, drove to Las Vegas that same afternoon where she stayed with her parents who were Lizzy's paternal grandparents. From Chicago, where he was testifying, Uncle Dick had contacted colleagues in the Las Vegas office of the FBI who offered to help. Once Uncle Dick completed his testimony he would, rather than fly home, fly into Vegas and with what vacation time he had, join in the search. As an attorney lately from Las Vegas Lizzy's father had contacts in law enforcement too, which he called. Their father also arrived as soon as he could and stayed with his parents.

A little more than two weeks remained before BYU began and during them a great deal of nothing that led to conclusion had occurred. First, a police officer arrived. Despite their father's calls to Metro, the police officer who had arrived wouldn't help. And his words were of no comfort. Instead, as he glanced around her bedroom, he said, "We cannot devote police time to this matter. At nineteen, Lydia's too old to be classed a runaway and there is no sign of foul play. In fact, an eyewitness report indicates she willingly withdrew most of the money from her bank hours before she went missing. The teller, who recognized her, insisted nothing was amiss. And you must admit, her farewell note is jocular. Though this will sound sad to you, she has probably disappeared into the Las Vegas night life, which happens."

When she heard this Lizzie remembered Rhonda Eccles who, in Lizzy's opinion, had done what this officer had suggested. Rhonda was Lizzie's friend from high school who went on scholarship to USC where she bombed by the end of her first year. Home, not just for the summer but for good, and at loose ends, she called Lizzy. They did several things together but only the last was memorable. Here is what occurred. At Rhonda's suggestion they drove to a hotel where Rhonda said, "Let's gamble." They began putting nickels into slot machines which is what kids did if they could get away with it – so Lizzy saw no harm. She was soon caught, but since being caught consisted of nothing more than being escorted off the floor Lizzy again thought, no harm. Rhonda disagreed. She came to her and ridiculed her. Rhonda said, "You ought to have dressed up. That's why you were caught." (As if it mattered.) At this point Lizzy noticed that Rhonda was dressed in something more adult than jeans and a T-shirt.

What came out as they went to Rhonda's car was that Rhonda had been hanging around that casino, where she'd been picked up by a man. Lizzy couldn't remember the details but it seemed the man worked in the casino doing who knows what? But from what Lizzy could remember Rhonda described him as well placed.

She supposed now that her friend Rhonda had disappeared into the Las Vegas night life. She wasn't sure. Rhonda never called again, but mutual friends described her as no longer pursuing her education. She was unemployed, drove an expensive car, and was seen on the arms of a succession of middle aged men.

As she thought about middle aged men Lizzy decided Rhonda's fate was not Lydia's. Lydia prized youth. In fact, Lydia's initial objection to George Wickham had been that George, who was almost twenty-five, was too old.

Lizzy had no clue as to how Collins got wind – most likely some telephone tree – but Collins sent her a letter which said,

_My dear Lizzy, I feel called upon by our relationship and my position as a cleric to condole with you. What affliction you are suffering under! Be assured I sincerely sympathize with you – a distress the stain of which nothing can remove. The death of your sister would have been preferable. (I understand Lydia is licentious.) I am joined in this opinion by Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh to whom I have related this matter. She agrees that such behavior on Lydia's part will injure you and Jane. "Who," as she says, "will stoop to connect himself by marriage to Lizzy or her sister?" _Collins ended by suggesting Lizzy throw off her unworthy sister from her affection forever.

"I almost think," Lizzy said to Jane to whom she'd read the letter, "Tom Collins thinks we ought to retire to a convent."

Jane, not realizing Lizzy was kidding, said, "An unavailable luxury. No nuns in our church."

Uncle Dick, now arrived, and with the help of Lydia's father, was following up on what Uncle Dick's colleagues had started which was the interviewing of all Lydia's friends, associates, and coworkers. Fresh from another interview, Uncle Dick and Jane and Lizzy's father had returned to Lizzy's paternal grandparents' house which was crowded with Bennet's, mainly cousins who lived in town. Many had swarmed – and most were armed with unwanted opinions and advice. No one suggested – as Tom Collins had hinted – that Lydia (when found) be stoned. But Lizzy and Jane's cousin, Mary Bennet, did say, "An unfortunate affair and one much talked of. But we must stem the tide of malice and pour into your bosoms which are wounded a balm of sisterly consolation." As Lizzy was thinking, where does Mary Bennet get these words?, Mary added, "As unhappy as the event is, we draw from it a useful lesson. Loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable – one false step and endless ruin. One cannot be too guarded in her behavior toward the opposite sex."

Uncle Dick said, "Mary, stop." Which was balm to Lizzy's ears. Her cousins, under the guise of feeling, had thrown stones (gossiped and given advice that was unwanted) when her parents had divorced. And now again.

Lydia herself solved the mystery. Two nights before Lizzy, Jane and Jeff left for BYU Lydia called and spoke to her mother. That previous spring Lydia had been admitted to UNLV's nursing program. No surprise there. With her skill in math she had aced chemistry and had somewhat "found herself" in her science classes. Determined to start nursing school and to end the trap into which she'd fallen, she had called her mother to ask for a loan for her tuition, which was due. Her mother asked and was given Lydia's location (Wickham's apartment) and agreed to pay if Lydia came home. Lydia was more than willing. She missed her family and friends, and did not want to stay at Wickham's. As to how Lydia had landed at Wickham's, shortly after Lydia's flame dropped her, which was right at the time her temporary job ended – so Lydia was very much at loose ends – Lydia had bumped into George Wickham. A very persuasive man, George had talked her out of her money and by stages into staying at his place. Lydia never gave many particulars but, once home, when someone asked, "Will you marry Wickham?" Lydia said,

"No. As a nurse I'll find a doctor."

On the heels of Lydia's return, Jeff, Jane and Lizzy rode with friends to BYU.

As a side note, Wickham did want Lydia as his wife. To give a glimpse into his heart – he recognized Greg Darcy's interest in Lizzy Bennet and believed his own marriage to Lizzy's sister would reconnect him to the Darcy family.

With the talk about Lydia and now Lydia's temporary reconnection with George Wickham (which it seemed the entire Mormon world knew) Lizzy hardly expected to hear from Greg Darcy – especially with his aunt Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh pronouncing the Bennet's stained and vile. But on the second day of class Greg Darcy and Jim Bingley arrived at Lizzy and Jane's apartment. Cindy King answered the door which opened into a dining area which, at the far end, housed a single line kitchen. It was Lizzy's turn to cook and as such she was in the midst of making tacos. Which was quite a bit of work as she had not prepared ahead by dicing the tomatoes, grating the cheese, and shredding the lettuce. Instead, she was doing the preceding while cooking the meat and tortillas. So she could barely look up, let alone stop and talk.

Cindy took Greg and Jim to the adjacent room which had chairs, a sofa, and a TV. _Star Trek_ was coming on and she invited them to watch it with her but first said, "I'll find Jane." She did and the four sat down to watch the series while in the next room Lizzy cooked. Darcy, who had been talkative when at home on Pemberly Lane, was grave again – like the old Darcy Lizzy knew. And Bingley, who'd said nary a word when they were together in Santa Monica talked – as Lizzie could hear from the other room – somewhat to everyone, but mostly to Jane. He was full of his former good humor and friendliness.

With dinner made and two extra chairs placed, Lizzy, Jane, their four roommates and Darcy and Bingley came to the table. Bingley chose a seat by Jane but Darcy, for whatever his reason, sat in a seat on the end opposite of the table from Lizzy's. Lizzy wondered why, and this – the fact he didn't work to sit by her and his ensuing silence – made her feel that he had changed his opinion. After all, she had refused him and in an impolite way and most likely he had heard from his aunt about Lydia's disappearance with Wickham, and had taken up his aunt's strong opinion about its widespread "taint."

As puzzled as she was by Darcy, she was pleased to see Bingley speak to Jane. As she watched the two the opening lines of a song popular at that time came to mind, "The look of love is in your eyes. A look that time can't disguise." But Darcy's eyes were vacant. So she was surprised when Darcy, before he and Bingley left, asked her out for that coming Friday.

On Friday night the two walked on campus to the BYU bowling lanes. All their talk centered around bowling – in particular the scoring of it, which Lizzy found hard. Darcy explained. Next Lizzy mentioned golf and its scoring which seemed harder still. Darcy explained how golf was scored and then because Lizzy asked, Darcy explained golf handicaps. Neither said anything personal which made Lizzy wonder the purpose of the date.

Two dates followed – the first the weekend after they went bowling and the second on the weekend after the first.

On the eve of their most recent date (that is, Jane and Bingley's most recent date) Jane came home engaged. Bingley had given her a ring. A pretty, bright diamond of a half-carat, which was considered large then.

That following day Lizzy received another letter from Collins. It said: _I understand you are engaged to Greg Darcy_. _Is this true?_ (This was not the entire extent of the letter. A letter of only eleven words was not Collins' style. The letter had begun with Collins' usual effusive salutations, mentioned all that was owed to Mrs. de Bourgh because of her condesencions, and only finally asked for verification of Lizzy's engagement to Greg.) Lizzy wondered the source of the rumor – who had said they were engaged – but chose not to answer Collins' letter because this second letter was as presumptuous as his first.

When Lizzy did not return an answer by post Mrs. de Bourgh mounted a more direct offensive. As to the particulars of this offensive: it began early one morning. On this occasion Lizzy and her roommates were up and dressed, but not yet out – as it was not yet early enough for anyone except those foolish enough to take 7am classes to be out the door.

Cindy King was alone in the kitchen eating breakfast and as such answered the knock at the door. She hardly knew what to say when the door was thrown the rest of the way open by a woman whom she recognized from the pictures Lizzy had taken at Fort- to be Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh. Because the knock had come so early Cindy was prepared for a surprise. But nothing equaled the surprise of what met her which was that Mrs. de Bourgh, who carried in her heart the antiquated notion that a woman went nowhere unless escorted by a man, had brought an MP, her driver, who rather than wait in the car, stood a respectful distance behind her. From his position he announced Mrs. de Bourgh and the fact that she wished to speak to Lizzy Bennet.

Cindy King watched in amazement as Mrs. de Bourgh entered the apartment without speaking a word, found her way to a chair in the front room, and took a seat.

Though surprised, when Elizabeth arrived from her bedroom, she said nothing other than, "Hello Mrs. de Bourgh." The lady in question gave no answer save a nod.

Lizzy found herself asking if she could be seated, and in her own apartment. This was the effect Mrs. de Bourgh had on others.

Another moment or two of silence ensued before Mrs. de Bourgh said, "I hope you are well, Miss Bennet."

After Lizzy indicated she was but before she could ask after Mrs. de Bourgh's health, Mrs. de Bourgh said, "You have a very small room here. Not near as large as the front room of the apartment of my nephew Greg. And it must be hot in the evening as the windows are full west."

Lizzy said, "Not quite – as the wing across from us shades us."

Mrs. de Bourgh turned around to glance through the picture window at the wing of Campus Plaza which ran parallel to the wing that Lizzy lived in.

"Yes. I see."

Lizzy didn't entirely wonder why she was there. She supposed it had something to do with Greg because it sounded as if Mrs. de Bourgh had visited Greg too. But Lizzy had not yet divined Mrs. de Bourgh's true purpose.

Before Lizzy could think of a single thing to say except, "Why are you here?" which would have seemed impertinent, Mrs. de Bourgh said,

"If memory serves me right the botanical garden is nearby. Shall we take a turn in it?"

Lizzy agreed so the two ladies, with the MP walking crisply behind them, set out for BYU's botanical garden. What a sight.

Once they were shrouded by shrubbery Mrs. de Bourgh said, "You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, as to the reason of my journey here. Your own heart, your own conscience must tell you why I have come."

Elizabeth looked surprised after which she said, "Indeed you are wrong. I have not been able to divine the reason of the honor you pay me."

"Miss Bennet," said Catherine de Bourgh, "You ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however much you choose to dissemble I shall not. My character is known for frankness. And I shall not deviate. A report of the most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that your sister is to wed my nephew's friend Jim Bingley and that you will in all likelihood be similarly joined to my nephew Greg Darcy. Though I know it must be a falsehood – I will not insult my nephew by supposing it is true – I have come to Provo to make my objections known to you."

"If you believe it to be a falsehood," said Elizabeth, her color now rising with surprise and anger, "I wonder you came so far and to what end?"

"To insist upon having the report contradicted by you."

"Your coming to Provo will confirm rather than deny such reports."

"Do you pretend to be ignorant? Have the reports been circulated by you? Have you not heard a report to this effect?"

Elizabeth said, "Truly. No."

"And can you assure me that no foundation exists for it?"

Lizzy said, "I don't pretend to be as forthright as you. You may ask questions which I may not choose to answer."

Mrs. de Bourgh indicated that Lizzy's choice in the present matter was not to be borne. She said, "I insist on being told. Has my nephew offered to marry you? With your cunning have you drawn him in?"

Lizzy was speechless.

To fill the silence Mrs. de Bourgh insisted that her connection to Darcy gave her the right to know his dearest concerns.

"But," said Lizzy, "not mine."

Mrs. de Bourgh now said, "Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I am a woman unaccustomed to impertinence. Understand me. This match to which you aspire, cannot take place. My nephew is meant for someone of more consequence than you. And the likes of you – a young woman of inferior birth and of no importance in the world – shall not intrude. Now, what have you to say?"

"Only that if what you say is so, there is no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me. And if he does why may I not accept?"

Her reasons were that if they married Lizzy would be censured by the world and slighted and despised by all Greg Darcy's connections.

To this Lizzy said, "Heavy misfortunes. But such a woman would have the happiness of being your nephew's wife."

Mrs. de Bourgh repeated her objections: Lizzy's family was full of upstarts, the Darcy's were rich, Lizzy's parents were not, and finally she objected to Lizzy's own pretentions, which she categorized as those of an upstart. To emphasize her position, Mrs. de Bourgh said, "If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."

"I am not quitting it," Lizzy said. After which she repeated the words she'd spoken to Darcy at Fort-. "My father is a gentleman and my mother a lady. And whatever my connections might be," Lizzy said, "If Greg does not object to them, they are nothing to you."

"Tell me at once," said Catherine de Bourgh, "are you engaged to him?"

To this Lizzy said, "I am not."

With one admission in hand Mrs. de Bourgh reached for another. "And will you promise never to enter into an engagement with Greg?"

"No."

"Miss Bennet," said Mrs. de Bourgh, "I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into believing I will relent. I shall not leave until you give me the assurance I require."

"Something I shall never give. I will not be intimidated. You have mistaken my character. How far Greg might approve of your interference, I cannot tell. But you have no right to interfere in mine."

Mrs. de Bourgh now mentioned Lydia's indiscretion and predicted it would pollute her nephew Greg.

To this Lizzy said, "I must return to my apartment."

Mrs. de Bourgh answered, "You are resolved then to have him."

"I have said no such thing and am only resolved to act in a way which will answer my ideas of happiness. And as you must know, no actual principles would be violated were Greg and I to marry."

"And this is your final resolve. Very well. I take no leave of you Miss Bennet," she said as she hurried to her MP, "and I send no compliments to your family."

When her roommates asked and even when Jane asked after the purpose of Mrs. de Bourgh's visit Lizzy resorted to falsehood simply because the reason for the visit – the MP alone – was too bizarre for words.

Two days after his aunt's visit, Darcy took Lizzy to BYU's homecoming game. (Since Darcy mentioned nothing about his aunt Lizzy followed suit.) The homecoming game capped off a week of festivities none of which interested Lizzy. She had not gone downtown to the parade nor given a thought to the dance. But, though she did not follow football, she was interested in going to the game with Darcy.

The only other BYU football game Lizzy had attended was as a BYU freshman. Her student ward, like others, had gone in mass and sat in block seating. Darcy had better seats: in fact on the fifty yard line. These had come courtesy of his parents' standing as big-time BYU alums. As they arranged themselves in their seats Darcy said, "Do you follow sports?"

Lizzy answered, "In truth. No. I was brave enough, though, to go to my first football game alone."

He asked, "Why alone?"

"A guy in my ward played on the team of a rival high school and he wanted me to watch him play. So my mom dropped me off. I sat on the Vegas side – Vegas was the name of his high school; Valley mine – where I began to cheer, and wildly yell his name after saying, 'Go.' Sadly, I did not know that teams changed sides at halftime. So when I saw him running in what I thought was the wrong direction I called his name after which I yelled, 'You're running the wrong way.' His fellow Wildcats around me in the stand set me straight. My only other knowledge comes from a parody two English professors wrote and read to us. The parody tied the handkerchiefs that are sometimes dropped on the field to Desdemona's. I understood the reference to Desdemona, but a friend in the row across from me had to explain that handkerchiefs are dropped on football fields to mark penalties." She asked, "What about you?"

He said, "I like sports and now that I'm through with block classes I can participate – largely as a spectator."

BYU won the game when its wide receiver caught what Darcy termed "a miracle pass. " Lizzy laughed because at BYU football was closely tied to religion.

Midweek Darcy called again, this time to invite Lizzy to a concert. He said, "The seats are lousy – in the balcony – but because I learned of the concert last minute, they're the best I could swing."

The concert was one given by The Utah Symphony and was held, as all their home concerts were, in the Tabernacle on Temple Square. The reason most of the tickets had already been sold stemmed from the fact that The Utah Symphony would be playing _Appalachian Spring_ and other Aaron Copeland pieces conducted by Copeland himself.

"Who clued you in?" said Lizzy.

"I overheard two music students in the library mention it and felt it might be to your liking."

Lizzy had a friend in Vegas whose house had an ultra small half bath off its kitchen. This was the facility guests used and it was so tiny that one had to turn sideways and bend in one's gut to get past the sink to the commode. Lizzy thought of this bathroom as she and Darcy turned sideways to squeeze into the balcony seats of the Tabernacle.

Darcy said, "Again, I apologize. I've never sat in the balcony. The fit is tight."

"Yet amazing."

Darcy wondered what Lizzy meant.

"Well," she said, "if I'm remembering right the saints wanted to fit as many members as they could into the Tabernacle."

"True."

"So the balcony seats' design is remarkable. Plus," she said, "this past week I learned in a history class that Brigham Young had barely issued a request for pews before the membership of the church fashioned them from pine trees they rapidly felled and hauled. And now we're sitting in one."

She set her right hand on the seat of the pew. Darcy glanced at it.

Aaron Copeland was joyful and spry as he conducted his work. During intermission Lizzy said, "It must be something to create a piece then conduct it."

Darcy said, "Yes. And his work is ultra American."

She said, "What do you mean?"

"Well, that his music is broad and expansive, yet simple, and pristine. Everything about it makes one think of wide, open spaces."

Lizzy thought a moment before she said, "True."

A short question and answer session followed the concert which was being held to aid Utah's fledgling environmental movement. When movie star Robert Redford stood to ask a question Lizzy said, "What a treat, Darcy: The pews, the music, and now Robert Redford."

"I aim to please," Darcy said. Lizzy thought a moment about his words and recognized truth in them.

Two days later – as Greg and Lizzy walked to a mid-week date together at the de Jong Concert Hall – Darcy stopped abruptly after which he said, "If your feelings are still what they were at Fort-, tell me so at once. Mine have not altered. But one word from you will silence me forever."

Lizzy, who had been looking ahead, turned her face toward his before she said, "My feelings toward you have so changed that I would welcome what I think you're about to say."

The two were presently engaged. Unsure of what Lizzy's response might be, Darcy had not purchased a ring. But quickly did so, and did so over the angry protests of his aunt who called from Fort- promising she would cut off contact with him if he married Lizzy Bennet. And that she would urge his parents to do the same. They did not. And when both accepted the pending marriage Mrs. de Bourgh followed their example. Mrs. de Bourgh's husband was already ready to. He was Lizzy's fan. He found her pretty and smart, and her family connections – (a mother who worked at Red Flag; and as he had recently discovered, a father who had been in security services during the Korean War) were more than agreeable to him. He felt Lizzy's parents must be talented people.

Georgiana was happy to have a sister at last. And once Darcy presented Lizzy with her ring she popped into a photo booth at the mall, held it up to the camera and sent one of the photos that came out in the vertical block to Aunt Ava, the woman she and Darcy declared the source of their happiness. If Aunt Ava had not driven Lizzy to Pemberly Lane…. But Aunt Ava had.

When Darcy's parents flew in for their son's wedding they recognized Lizzy's fine qualities and with even greater zeal prepared to welcome her in to their family.

To soften her presence at their impending reception, Darcy said, "I must thank my aunt and her interference for our current happiness. When Aunt Catherine told me that you had refused to refuse me, she taught me to hope."

Still, Lizzy planned to avoid his aunt as far as possible, but would take delight in introducing his uncle, General de Bourgh, to both of her parents, which Lizzy did.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The original Mrs. Bennet – the one from Las Vegas not Salt Lake City – in the belief that women should not marry but pursue careers – could not look at her two eldest daughters' pending weddings with anything beyond antipathy. She did not relish standing beside her ex-husband in the line (Lizzy and Jane were about to have double weddings and receptions.) So she was pleased when her sister Nadia, who boned up on wedding etiquette, explained that protocol would put her (the original Mrs. Bennet) beside the husbands of the groom. And although the original Mrs. Bennet already liked both her future sons-in-law, she forecast gloomy ends for the marriages of Lizzy and Jane – neither of which came true – both marriages flourished.

As Darcy's best man Colonel Fitzwilliam flew in for the weddings and was smitten, not with Mary Bennet's moralizing, but with how pretty she was. And by listening intently to her, and perhaps by convincing her that the people of Paris needed her sermons, he got her to agree to marry him. Like Charlotte and Collins had done, Mary and the Colonel eventually had a Christmas wedding.

In the aftermath, when Mrs. Catherine de Bourgh tried to intimate that Lizzy had polluted Greg, and Darcy's mother answered her sister's intimations with praise for Lizzy, Mrs. de Bourgh changed her views – or at least her airing of them. (Evidently, even after the wedding, Mrs. de Bourgh had tried to hint that an impropriety had occurred when Greg and Lizzy had traveled together to Boston for the day. But Darcy's mother challenged those intimations by praising her new daughter-in-law's character.)

Lydia married Wickham after all, and the two always spent more than both made. Mrs. B2, who was pleased that as an active member she was able to stand beside so many brides in the temple, often helped Lydia and Wickham with finances.

Jeff went on a mission, Uncle Gardiner was made the head of the FBI – in Chicago no less – what a coup. And despite her sermonizing against the practice, the original Mrs. Bennet married again – this time to a math whiz like herself, a military man which, by-the-by, General de Bourgh sent her way.

The End


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